


The King's Mark

by pastelwitchling



Series: The Flowers of Frost [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Again, Brief Mention of Suicide, Gay Sex, I mean like one-line brief, Jealous Michael, Kylex, M/M, Malex, MissingAlexWeekend, SUPER brief - Freeform, Sex, bonus story/sequel, brief references to past abuse and trauma and death, forlex, magic sex, missingalexmanes, really really REALLY brief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelwitchling/pseuds/pastelwitchling
Summary: After silently suffering for months in his kingdom, Alex takes it on himself to embark on a voyage across the sea with his love, Michael. On the way, they are caught by pirates, and Alex realizes there is more to the crew's captain than meets the eye.
Relationships: Forrest Long & Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes, Michael Guerin & Alex Manes, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: The Flowers of Frost [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768030
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63





	The King's Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are! The Bonus Story/Sequel. I'm too tired and hungry for a proper introduction, so I'll cut to the chase. This is a SEQUEL, so if you have not read the original story (The Flowers of Frost), I really, really, REALLY recommend that you do. My tumblr is posted below, do drop by and tell me what you thought if you read this work all the way through. It always means the world to hear from readers.

Alex inhaled the ocean air deeply, the chill of the autumn breeze pinching his cheeks and nose and turning them red. With the change of the seasons, Alex felt the unusual but not unexpected dread build in his chest. The world would turn cold again, and soon.

Alex hugged himself, the thin fabric of his white shirt soft beneath his fingers. There was a time when he could not fathom needing cloaks to stay warm, and was constantly reminded of his need for them now. It should not have made him as uneasy as it did.

Alex felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder, falling down along his arm, and his eyes fluttered shut as Michael came to stand beside him. He turned his face into Michael’s shoulder, inhaling his Viking’s scent.

“You are troubled,” Michael murmured into his hair. As always, there came a warmth with his love’s presence that Alex could not explain and yet always yearned for. A warmth Alex had known since the day they had met, a warmth that never changed, even if it felt as if Alex’s entire world had turned new and undefinable. The tension in his body eased.

“If you would rather stay in Mirolet –” Michael started, but Alex was already shaking his head.

His Mirolet, the kingdom he’d fought so hard to save, had turned to a world of rust and gold with the death of the leaves, the trees reflected in the palace walls along with the clouded sky. The ground beneath their feet crackled, and with the aroma of hot stews wafting out of windows every few steps, it seemed as if the entire kingdom had turned to one, very large cottage for its people. Alex loved it with every bit of his heart, but every day in the throne room yielded itself to new challenges, simple ones that should not weigh as heavily as they did on Alex’s shoulders, ones that Kyle seemed not to struggle with as terribly.

Alex was suffocating on the kingdom grounds, though he would not dare admit it. He reached up, holding Michael’s jaw in his hand. “I would not be parted from you for another day.”

Michael turned into Alex’s touch, kissing his palm. “It is a mere fortnight, my beauty.”

Alex’s lips tugged into a half-smile. “Are you attempting to dissuade me from going? Do you not think, in all the centuries that I have lived, that I have never been on a voyage?”

Michael turned them both so that their chests were pressed against one another. “You jest, but you cannot imagine the pain I feel at leaving you.”

Alex smiled sadly, tracing Michael’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Yes, my Viking. I can.”

“But I would not have you force yourself to accompany me,” Michael continued grimly. “Not even for such a simple voyage.”

“Time is far too precious to waste,” Alex said. “I know that now. And I cannot bear the distance between us, not now.” _Not as the breeze grows colder, the crown heavier._

This, he did not say, though it did not seem as if he needed to, for as Michael searched his face, he nodded, and pulled Alex in to kiss his forehead. Alex gripped Michael’s coat tightly, relieved in the touch of the familiar wool between his fingers. Michael then focused on something over Alex’s shoulder, and his expression turned slightly irritable.

“I shall begin boarding then,” he mumbled against Alex’s lips, kissed him once, and turned toward the small ship docked at the edge of the forest. It was just large enough for a small crew, but only Alex and Michael would be going.

Just as quickly as Michael’s warmth left him, it returned in the form of his brother Kyle as the prince came to stand at his side.

They said nothing for a moment, they hardly needed to speak when they were together, but Alex could almost hear Kyle’s thoughts in the rustle of the leaves and waves as they gently hit the shore and fell back again. That is why, when Kyle did speak, his words came as no surprise to Alex.

“You’ve not been sleeping,” he said, as easily as if he were talking of an oncoming storm.

“Have I ever slept?” Alex asked, and Kyle pursed his lips.

“That was when shadows haunted your mind.”

“Perhaps it is a different shadow that haunts me now.”

“Are you seeing him again?” Kyle asked, and Alex’s back straightened. “Your father –”

“No,” Alex said before Kyle could finish. “I am not.”

Kyle said nothing a moment, then, his voice softer, “For centuries, he had invaded your mind and watched you from the darkness. No one would think you a coward for fearing his return –”

“I would not lie to you, Kyle,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “Not about this. Never again.”

Kyle searched Alex’s face, and after a moment, nodded silently. They returned their gaze to the ocean, the small ship rising and falling on the waves.

“He notices,” Kyle said, “that you are unwell. He is not entirely as foolish as he looks.”

Alex raised a brow. “Did you just compliment Michael?”

“By the gods,” Kyle scowled. “Speak not a word of it. His head is large enough as it is.”

Alex huffed a laugh. “Will you two never get along?”

“Not so long as he continues that terribly irritating habit of being everything he is,” he said. Then, his expression softened as he turned to Alex. “There is one matter in which we can agree upon, however. We both love you very dearly, as I know you love us. Either one of us would lay down our lives for you, as I know you would do the same. And, for better or worse, we both know when you’re lying.”

“Kyle –”

“Perhaps this journey will be good for you,” Kyle continued, ignoring him. “I have seen the way you hesitate to wear the crown. _Alex_ ,” he said, turning Alex by the shoulder so that they were facing one another, “you may be Mirolet’s king, but to me, you have always been, and will always be, my prince. If the throne frightens you, discover why. And come back to me.”

Alex knew not what emotion flooded his veins in that moment. Relief, grief, anger? He was not yet king, yet Kyle constantly spoke as if he was. Kyle seemed to know just what he was thinking when he dared not speak it. When he dared not to even confess it now, to himself. He knew his friend was right, and _yet_ . . . he couldn’t be.

Alex ran a weary hand over his face. “You just called me Alex.”

Kyle turned away, his arms crossed. “Yes, never doing that again. It makes me _shudder_ just thinking about it. Right then, Your Majesty,” he said as Michael waved Alex over to him from the ship’s deck, “your moronic subject awaits.”

“ _Kyle_ –”

“And try not to let anything horrible happen, will you?” Kyle called as Alex began walking off down the shore. “Remember, you _are_ a sorcerer! That magic has a purpose!”

“It is a mere voyage to gather fruit, Kyle,” Alex called, walking backwards. “What could happen?”

But even as he asked, Kyle’s expression remained grim. Alex had to admit, even now, it felt odd to be away from Kyle at all. They’d never been apart so long, and he could not blame his friend for his concern. He had to confess, as he turned his back to Kyle, that he felt the slightest dread build at being separated from his friend.

_Ah good_ , he thought dryly. _Because my head truly was not busy enough before._

The first time Alex remembered feeling his heart racing was on a stormy night, what felt like years ago now, when he and Michael had shared a cave. Michael’s hands had been on Alex’s bare knees, his lips hovering just over Alex’s, their bodies pressed close together. Then they’d kissed for the first time, Alex’s world had shattered, and it had not stopped shattering since.

Every time he looked at Michael, every time the Viking’s green eyes settled on him, every time the sun turned his curls to gold, every time he smiled at Alex as if he was the most precious treasure to ever be discovered, Alex’s heart hammered so desperately in his chest that he feared it may kill him.

Even now, as he watched Michael at the head of the ship, a long lens in hand as he surveyed the ocean, Alex could not help but lean slightly against the mast. Michael had discarded his wool coat, a shirt of thin fabric lay beneath under which Michael’s back clenched, his shoulder blades strong as they stretched back.

“Do you plan to watch me all afternoon?” Michael finally asked.

Alex smiled and came to stand behind him, his arms around the Viking’s waist. “I plan to do much more than watch,” he whispered against the shell of Michael’s ear. Michael’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned back into Alex with a moan. Alex kissed the soft skin there before moving to stand beside him.

“Why are you moving?” he groaned, and Alex laughed.

“We can hardly lay together on the deck, can we?”

“Do you know me at all?” Michael asked, then, tilting his head as if he’d only now noticed, said, “You have your bow and arrows.”

“Oh? Yes, I suppose I do,” Alex said, fingering the bow across his chest.

“I’ve missed you like this,” Michael touched his nose to Alex’s. “My archer.”

Alex shook his head, biting his lower lip to keep his grin from widening further. He nudged Michael’s arm. “What do you see?”

Michael held the lens up again and shook his head. “Nothing but water, which is to be expected. We’ve hardly been sailing a day. I expect another three, at the very least, before we spot any land – _oi_! What’re you doing?!”

Michael held onto Alex’s waist and pulled him back as he attempted to stand on the edge of the ship.

“What?” Alex blinked. “Goodness, what’s come over you?”

“ _Me_?! You can’t stand there, you could fall!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alex rolled his eyes. “I’ve never fallen a day in my life, I have perfect balance.”

“Do you?” Michael raised a brow. “Because I remember a certain boat you’d stumbled out of and into my arms.”

Alex blushed. “What makes you think I hadn’t purposely stumbled so that you could catch me?”

Michael stared. “You have far too much pride for me to ever believe that that’s true.”

It wasn’t, but Michael seemed far too amused with the memory of saving Alex. “While your concern in admirable, Michael, I assure you I am perfectly safe. And I wish a better view.”

“ _Alex_ , you could easily fall into the ocean –”

“It’s just _water_ , and it’s not as if we’re at an unimaginable height –”

“You’re not immune to the cold anymore!” Michael said, shaking Alex slightly.

Alex stilled. He _hadn’t_ considered the cold, he had to admit. In actuality, he’d not considered falling into the water at all, for the fear of death had never been worth contemplating in the past. He always simply woke up, whole and alive. Still, as Michael seemed to realize what he’d said, guilt overtaking his expression, Alex forced a small smile to his lips. It wasn’t Michael’s fault that Alex was no longer immortal. It wasn’t his burden to bear. Only Alex’s.

“All right,” he said quietly, gently prying Michael’s hands from his arms. “Calm yourself, my love, I haven’t forgotten.” He kissed Michael’s cheek. “I apologize for frightening you.”

Turning away from Michael, Alex reached up and clutched the bow across his chest. All these months, aside from Michael and Kyle, Alex’s bow and arrows had been his greatest comfort. He felt himself with his weapons in hand, though he could not explain what that meant, not even to himself. With a sigh, Alex took the stairs to the lower deck.

_I have to be careful_ , he thought as he descended the steps. _Much more careful than this._

_“Hurry, Alex! Faster!”_

_“I’m trying!”_

_“Try harder!”_

_Alex panted, his heart hammering painfully in his chest, his legs burning as he raced after his brothers._

_In the kitchens, behind the red velvet curtains in the corner, lay a small room lined with bookshelves. It was the brothers’ second home, privy only to a few servants who’d watched the boys grow up and allowed them their secret space._

_The best thing about this room, Gregory constantly reminded Alex, was that the smallest shelf, behind the cluster of armchairs, was moveable ever so slightly. It gave them access, a bit of sight and hearing into the throne room, and this morning, Alex and his brothers had overheard their father talking about a very special visitor that was coming from overseas. The kingdom never got visitors, and so when they came, Alex and his brothers were eager to get the first look._

_“Slow down!” he called, and immediately stumbled on the snow-covered road. Alex had never had too much grace as a child. He fell into a roll and lay spread on the ice._

_The faint sun was shadowed by his brother, an exasperated look on his face and his hands on his hips._

_“Oh honestly, Alex, can’t you do_ anything _?” Gregory said, and instead of offering his hand, he took Alex’s, and roughly pulled him to his feet._

_“Ow! My shoulder!”_

_“Stop whining,” Gregory said, “and come on!”_

_“What’re you doing?!” Flint called with Clay bouncing on his heels beside him, several people already turning their heads to watch the four handsome princes. “Hurry up!”_

_Alex and Gregory ran to reach their brothers, the four only stopping as they neared the outskirts of the frosted forest, overlooking the white shore._

_The water along the shore had been turned to ice, the surface rising and falling with the gentle waves. But it was the large ship that had caught the boys’ attention. It had been nearly as high as the palace, and just as wide, with what seemed at the time like a hundred men roaming the deck. There was a plank leading off the ship and onto the shore, but none of them seemed to want to use it._

_“Who are they?” Clay asked in a whisper._

_“Why aren’t they coming down?” Flint asked._

_“Can’t you tell?” Gregory said, smirking. “They’re_ pirates _.”_

_“No, they’re not,” Flint snapped, looking uncertain._

_“Pirates?” Alex said. “How do you know?”_

_“They’re not pirates, Alex, don’t listen to him,” Flint said._

_“Have you ever seen any sailors with a ship so big?”_

_Clay was staring at the ship. “It’s not_ that _big,” he noted._

_“And why aren’t any of them coming onto the grounds?” Gregory persisted. “And why was father keeping their visit a secret?”_

_“I expect,” Flint said irritably, “it’s because he thought you would be foolish enough to suggest his visitors were pirates, and you’d scare them away.”_

_“If they were pirates, nothing could scare them away,” Alex said. “Just like in father’s bedtime stories. They’ll be plundering Mirolet, won’t they? Should we not go warn someone?”_

_“You think father wouldn’t already know?” Gregory said._

_“I thought we could talk to Aunt Michelle, actually,” said Alex quietly._

_Gregory stared at him a moment too long, the smirk gone from his lips, his eyes cold. “I think you spend far too much time with that physician, Alex.”_

She was mother’s greatest friend _, Alex almost said, but refrained. He caught the glances his brothers would often give him when he’d return to their secret room, covered in cuts and feeling ill after exhausting his magic – as if he were carrying a dangerous fire and threatening to unleash it on their heads._

 _“At any rate,” Gregory continued, “I doubt we’ll be seeing much of her or_ anyone _actually, not once the pirates take over.”_

_“Stop talking nonsense, Gregory,” Clay said calmly, still staring out at the ship. “You’re frightening him.”_

_“I’m not frightened!” Alex said indignantly._

_“And you shouldn’t be,” Gregory said, his smile widening. “Not of pirates anyway. They only attack on sea. I suppose that’s why father’s so reassured they won’t be coming onto the grounds. Now,_ Vikings _, on the other hand –”_

_“Would you stop it?!” Flint hissed angrily, his cheeks flushed. “There are no Vikings and these aren’t pirates! They’re sailors, nothing more!”_

_“They are,” Clay confirmed. “I saw a few of them open a barrel of fish over there. And those barrels on that side are filled with fruit.” He smiled over his shoulder at Gregory. “Seems your suspicions were wrong.”_

_Flint scoffed. “I suppose the only reason father’s taking his time to come meet them is because they’re not worth the effort.”_

_“You two are no fun at all,” Gregory sighed. “Come on, Alex. You better wake up before you risk having a good time.”_

_Alex blinked, not really seeing the ship anymore but the wide, endless ocean beyond it. “What?”_

_“Don’t you ever listen?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “Wake up, Alex._ Wake up. _Alex . . . Alex . . .”_

“Alex? Alex, where are you?”

Alex opened his eyes slowly, his back aching from sitting against a crate. The setting sunlight poured in through the porthole, leaving Alex curled in a small patch of warm light that did not feel at all warm. It was not until Alex rubbed the sleep from his eyes and saw Michael coming towards him that he felt the cold leave his bones.

“There you are,” Michael said with a relieved sigh, sitting down beside Alex who reached for his waist and buried himself against the Viking’s chest. Michael’s arm settled around Alex’s shoulders like a heated blanket. Alex sighed, content. “I was beginning to worry for you.”

Alex was silent a moment. He considered lying, telling Michael that he’d merely taken the wrong way and was too exhausted to change direction, but as the Viking’s heart raced against his ear, Alex could not find the strength for anything but the truth.

“They’re too dark, our sleeping quarters. The shadows are too thick. I could not go in without you.”

Michael’s arm tightened around his shoulders, his other hand coming up to cup Alex’s cheek. “I only realized, as I went to see you there, that the windows are still boarded from my last voyage with Max and Liz. I apologize, my beauty, I should have –”

“Do not apologize,” Alex said, nuzzling Michael’s chest, closing his eyes.

“The way I spoke to you on deck –”

“Shh,” Alex pressed his finger against Michael’s lips softly. He whispered, “I am not so fragile, my Viking. You ought to know that by now.”

Michael’s eyes fluttered as Alex leaned in, taking the man’s lips in his. Michael moaned quietly as Alex held his face in his hands, pulling him in deeper. As Michael tilted his head, deepening the kiss, he wrapped his arms tightly around Alex’s waist and pulled him onto his lap.

Michael exhaled deeply as they pulled back to breathe, their foreheads pressed together. “It has been too long since I’ve touched you.”

“You touched me this morning,” Alex smiled against his lips.

“As I said,” Michael murmured. “Too long.”

Alex moaned as Michael’s tongue slid against his own, their kisses openmouthed and wet. Alex gasped as he felt Michael’s warm hands slide under his shirt and up his back, reaching to touch whatever he could. 

“I,” Alex swallowed, “I cannot control my magic when we are together.”

But this seemed not to matter to Michael as he pulled Alex’s shirt over his shoulders and tossed it aside before quickly ridding himself of his own. “We are _alone_ at sea, after _months_ of having my sister and anyone else who may wish it walking through our door whenever they so well please,” he breathed against Alex’s nipple, his fingers already pinching the other one. “I _expect_ to have my way with you, archer.”

Alex’s breath was cut short as Michael kissed him again, hungrily, wildly, his hands roaming across whatever bit of skin he could reach. When Michael reached for Alex’s trousers, Alex gasped against his lips, though it did not slow the Viking down.

He grinded his hips upward into Alex’s, and Alex moaned louder against his lips. Alex reached down and roughly pulled Michael’s own trousers down until his half-hardened cock was released. Michael groaned as he clung to Alex, thrusting up against him again and again.

Alex licked his palm and reached down between their bodies, taking both their cocks in hand, both hardening quickly under his touch. The sky had turned to twilight, Alex was certain, and yet as the strong fire that always lit when Michael touched him turned hotter, coursing throughout his entire body, Alex could swear the moonlight was unusually bright.

“Stop, stop,” Michael said quickly. “I must . . .” he tried to speak, but seemed too out of breath to do so. Nonetheless, as his strong arms guided Alex a little higher, Alex knew what his love wanted of him.

He lowered himself onto Michael’s cock, his jaw hanging open as he took him in completely. He settled a moment on Michael’s lap, his arms tight around him, his nails digging into the Viking’s shoulders. Michael groaned in his ear, his hold on Alex’s waist unbearably tight, keeping their bodies pressed together.

It was almost impossible for Alex to move, but he managed it, reveling in the way Michael thrusted in and out of him, in the way Michael sucked on the soft skin of his neck or kissed his chest or ran his hands over Alex’s arse, all the while groaning about Alex’s beauty.

When they finally came, they came together, swallowing one another’s moans. A few curls had come loose from Michael’s knot, and had stuck to Michael’s forehead and the nape of his neck with sweat. As they lay on their backs on the ship’s floor, Alex reached over and gently tucked the curls behind Michael’s ears.

Michael took hold of Alex’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing his fingers. It felt foolish to be flustered with such a simple act of love after what they’d done, and yet Alex did not think that mattered. The stars shined through the porthole, the waves lapped gently against the ship, the world turned silent except for the sound of Michael and Alex’s heavy breathing.

Soon, the pants turned soft and deep, and Alex could feel the cold begin to return. He swallowed, curling against Michael’s side, relieved when the Viking wrapped him in his arms.

“Alex,” Michael said softly just as Alex felt himself about to drift off to sleep again. “Look.”

Alex followed Michael’s gaze out the porthole, and realized the moonlight was still incredibly strong. Then he lifted his head, his brows furrowed. _Hang on_ , he thought. That couldn’t be _moonlight_. He and Michael both dressed hurriedly and came up to the deck where they saw, to their astonishment, the sea below them had turned to a reflection of the sky. The stars shined as brightly as if the waves were made of the glass of Mirolet, and the moon shined from both below and above them, so brightly that it seemed as if the world was lit.

“I think _you_ did this,” Michael said. “It was your magic.”

And just as Michael had said it, the spell began to dim slowly, the stars and moon below them fading away.

Alex frowned. “I _did_ feel my magic at work when . . . when . . . er . . .”

Michael raised a brow, smirking. “When I was devouring you?”

“Must you be so vulgar?” Alex looked to the skies, exasperated. “But yes, I suppose.”

“You don’t seem pleased.”

Alex lifted his hand, muttered a few words, and his hands emitted a faint white and silver glow before the stars and moon below them disappeared completely. _It’ll be a full moon tomorrow_ , he thought. _How could I have forgotten?_ “I’ve caused too much light, we cannot risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Michael huffed a laugh, taking Alex’s hand in his. “And now, who is it that worries too much? Look around, my love. We are in the middle of the sea, _far_ away from anyone that might hurt us.”

“Yes, but . . .” Alex trailed off, pressing his lips together. Could that be true? Was Alex truly concerning himself with nothing? And yet, what was that uneasy feeling that had come over him since they had set sail? Perhaps Alex _was_ going mad. Perhaps he’d merely missed Kyle.

He mustered a chuckle. “You’re right. I’m being silly.”

Michael put a hand through Alex’s hair, and pulled him in for a kiss. When they separated, Michael let his arm fall onto Alex’s shoulders. “Come along, archer. You need sleep.”

_Alex was on the steps of the palace. Before him stretched the kingdom of Mirolet, the cottages spread apart in the snow, the flowers turned to ice, and in the distance, the bright gold pollen of the Flowers of Frost glittered in the sunlight peeking through the clouds._

_It was not the Mirolet Alex had grown accustomed to visiting in his dreams over the centuries, the one with an empty wasteland of dying flowers and crushing silence. Except inside the castle walls. There was always yelling in the castle._

_“Not anymore,” someone said, and Alex looked up just as his Aunt Michelle sat down beside him on the steps. Kyle sat on his other side, grinning._

_“This looks much better than the last time I shared a dream with you, Sire.”_

_“Kyle,” Alex breathed, falling into his friend’s embrace, his head buried in Kyle’s shoulder._

_“I told you he’d need you,” Michelle said softly. “I told you you’d need_ him _.”_

_“Me?” Kyle scoffed, though his words were short and his hold on Alex tight. “Please, I am happy to have time away from him. My nerves are always on end when he’s around.”_

_“How are you both here?” Alex asked when he pulled back, keeping Kyle’s hands in his._

_“Oh a simple dream spell,” Michelle said, waving her hand. “So long as Kyle and I are in the same room when we’ve fallen asleep, we share the dream. And we both needed to come see you. Well, to be more precise, I needed to speak to you and Kyle together.”_

_“What’s happened?” Alex asked. “Is Mirolet in danger?”_

_“Mirolet is safe in Kyle’s hands, fear not,” she said. “However, this concerns Mirolet’s_ future _. Boys, it is time to choose a king.”_

 _“_ Choose _?” Kyle shook his head. “There is no choice, His Royal Majesty is meant to be king.”_

 _“The people consider_ you _‘His Royal Majesty’ as well, Kyle,” Michelle said sternly. “It is time you accept that.”_

_“I always said you were a ruler, Kyle,” Alex said. “I meant it.”_

_Kyle’s brows furrowed. He pulled Alex’s hands towards him. “_ There is no choice _, Sire._ You _are Mirolet’s king. And I would not have it any other way.”_

_Alex hesitated. His hands tightened on Kyle’s. This was a dream, he could tell them the truth. He could confess his hesitation. If he just spoke now . . ._

_He forced a smile to his lips. “Let us take my time away to think, shall we? This is, after all, far too important a matter to be discussed in a dream.”_

_Kyle frowned. “But . . . Alex . . .”_

Wake up, _Alex thought._ Please, wake up now.

_“I know what I am doing, Kyle,” Alex said, and smirked. “Why not show a little faith? You have as much right to the throne as I do.”_

_Before Kyle could say anything else, Alex turned to Michelle and said, “How are Isobel and Maria managing themselves? All right?”_

_Michelle smiled softly as she searched Alex’s face. Alex feared she would ask questions, wonder why he was evading the conversation of the throne._

_But then she looked away, towards the villagers spotted from the palace, their children running behind one another in the snow, laughing loudly. “They’re doing fine, as always. It’s become quite a thing to watch; Maria is so eager to perform the spells perfectly, while Isobel beckons patience. They really . . .”_

_She trailed off, her expression falling as she stared off into the distance, no longer looking at the children, but as if she was staring through them._

_“Aunt Michelle?” Kyle asked. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”_

_Slowly, Michelle’s eyes narrowed as if she spotted something. “I sense . . . danger . . .”_

_Alex and Kyle were on their feet in an instant._

_“Danger?”_

_“To Mirolet?”_

_“No,” Michelle said grimly. “Not to Mirolet, Alexander. To_ you _. You must wake. Now.”_

Alex woke with a gasp as he heard movement around the ship. Michael stirred beside him, his arm around Alex’s hips as he sat up. For a moment, Alex heard nothing but the waves, but as he concentrated, he realized the sounds against the ship were more than water.

“Michael,” Alex shook Michael’s shoulder. “Michael, wake up, quickly.”

“Hmm?” Michael groaned, his arm tightening around Alex. “What is it, what –”

_CRASH!_ Michael sat up, fully awake. He looked surprised only for a short moment before he and Alex were both out of bed, hurriedly dressing themselves. It sounded now as if multiple people were stomping on the ship’s deck.

Michael took hold of his sword resting beside the bed, and put his hand on the door handle, looking over his shoulder at Alex who had already notched his first arrow. Alex summoned his magic to the surface, letting it move from his body, his fingertips, to his weapon. His arrow gleamed a bright silver even in the darkness. He nodded once, and Michael turned to the door, sword raised before he swung it open to reveal an old man, as tall as the ceiling itself, on the other side.

Michael crouched down low just as Alex let his arrow free, and it hit the intruder squarely in the chest, sending him flying backwards where he hit the end of the ship and fell to the floor, still.

“Michael,” Alex said as he pulled another arrow out of his quiver. “Try not to kill them.”

“ _Alex_ –”

Alex notched his arrow. “I want to know who exactly is foolish enough to invade _us_.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You and your pesky morality, archer. I always knew you would be the death of me. If that actually happens tonight, be assured that I will haunt you in the afterlife.”

_This_ , Alex realized, was Michael’s battleground, his territory. Michael was always the strongest of the Vikings, and now, he was given the chance to fight again. Alex tried not to think of that as they left the bedchamber.

“You would make a very frightening ghost, darling,” Alex said as he peered around the corner, arrow aimed.

Just then, another man came running at them from Michael’s direction. With a glance at Alex, Michael turned his sword so that he was aiming with his hilt, and struck the attacker between his eyes. He fell backward, and Michael gripped his hilt, blowing a stray curl out of his eyes and smiling.

“You always say the kindest things, my love.”

“They’re below!” Alex and Michael heard as they neared the stairs leading to the top deck.

“Stay close to me,” Michael said quietly, and Alex nodded. The top of the stairs led out into a black sky filled with stars and a bright moon, but as Michael and Alex neared the deck, the moon was obscured by a group of men and women who had surrounded them.

They wore dark shirts and trousers with long coats, some of the women wore dresses, their faces were decorated in color, and they each had a long sword in hand, all pointed at Michael and Alex.

“Oh dear, ten to one,” Michael smirked, his hand on his hilt tightening. “And here I hoped this would be a challenge.”

Michael swung his sword over his head so quickly that it seemed as if the Viking had a bright light surrounding him. The intruders were all slashed across the chest, falling backwards with cries of surprise.

“Well,” Michael frowned, “that was over terribly quickly.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. _Yes, it was, and that’s what concerns me_ , he almost said, but before he could, he noticed something happen to the men and women’s wounds.

He nudged Michael in the back. “Michael, _look_.”

The gashes that had been bleeding only moments ago began to glow a deep blue now, and as Alex and Michael watched, they healed, and the warriors rose to their feet slowly, seeming completely unsurprised at being saved. On the contrary, they all grinned maliciously, as if they’d been _expecting_ it. Alex knew then that no wounds caused by mortal weapons would last very long.

“Magic,” he said. “They’re using magic.”

Michael shook his head as the circle around them turned smaller. “That’s impossible. You can’t _all_ be sorcerers!” he barked angrily at them, as if more irritated by the mystery of their dilemma rather than actually afraid in any way. Alex had the strangest and most inappropriate urge to smile. “Who’s leading you?”

The circle laughed.

“They’re brighter than I thought they’d be,” one girl said. “I’ve laid claim to the blonde.”

“ _I_ want the archer,” a man said.

“The archer’s _mine_!” another yelled.

“Well, _I_ want the Viking!” one said.

Alex clenched his jaw, notching an arrow. “Apologies, pirate,” he said, “but the Viking belongs to _me_. That is what you are, isn’t it? Pirates?”

“Oh?” one tall man, far too thin for his coat and large trousers, snorted. “How did you know?”

“With your mastery of disguise?” Michael said dryly. “Goodness, I wonder.”

“We do not want to hurt you,” Alex said.

“Don’t we?” Michael smirked.

“Leave this ship now, and you will be spared,” he finished, his arrow notched. Alex could feel his powers simmering below the surface, focusing it to his fingertips, his arrow. It gleamed in the moonlight.

The crew looked to one another, laughing heartily as if Alex had made a great jest. All except one woman, who watched quite dazed.

“Heard that boys?” a girl with raven-black hair said, her lips the color of blood. “The pretty archer has made a threat!”

Michael gaped. “ _Pretty_?! Have they _seen_ you? You’re a great deal better than _pretty_!”

“Not now, my love,” Alex said calmly, aiming the arrow.

“An arrow and a sword,” the girl laughed. “That ought to protect you against us all. I say we let them swing their weapons around, some amusement is certainly due!”

The crowd roared with laughter, their voices howling into the night. They really were giving Alex quite the migraine.

“Now, now!” someone suddenly yelled over the crowd, and the others moved aside as another man with a black captain’s hat jumped onto the deck from the plank that connected Michael and Alex’s ship to the large black one immersed in shadows.

The man looked from Michael to Alex, his eyes narrowed. He grinned. “Let’s not mock anyone,” he said, waving his hand at Michael and Alex, his multicolored rings glistening in the moonlight. He had a sapphire earring on one ear reaching down to his shoulder.

“My, _my_ ,” he tilted his head. “Such handsome things you are. Well, let’s have it! Show us your best!”

“That’s him,” Michael muttered quietly enough that only Alex could hear. “That’s their leader.”

“How do you know?”

“I cannot say,” Michael said. “Power can recognize power.”

Alex glanced at him. “Are you honestly praising your strength _now_?”

“Are you aroused yet?” Michael grinned.

“I shall tell you in just a moment,” Alex turned his arrow on the captain. He trusted Michael would protect him from the others. When he spoke again, his voice was louder, “This is your final warning. Leave this ship, leave us be, and no harm will come to you.”

Several of the pirates scoffed, but the captain merely stared at Alex, his eyes lit with interest. Alex’s brows furrowed.

_His eyes . . ._

“Apologies, archer,” the captain said with an amused shrug. “You’ve made me curious. I would like a demonstration of your great power, if you please.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. As if hearing his thoughts, Michael said, “Is he . . . attempting to _rouse_ us?”

“Fear not,” Alex muttered, though his head swarmed with questions. “I have dealt with the prideful before.”

“Very amusing,” Michael said dryly.

“Pirates!” the captain called. “It seems our hosts need a bit of an incentive!” He shrugged. “Kill one! Don’t mind which, so long as one is dead. Now,” he sighed contentedly, leaning back against the ship’s edge. “That ought to be enough to force _one_ of them into action, eh?”

The crew seemed to have been waiting desperately for that command, for the raven-haired girl held up her sword and called out to the others to take aim. They had barely moved one foot forward before Alex let his arrow fly free. Instead of killing the captain, it spun around Alex and Michael, barely grazing the pirates’ chests. As the arrow flew past, each of them was thrown across the deck by an invisible force. With every pirate knocked aside, the arrow flew into the mast, its shaft trembling with the force.

In no time at all, Alex notched another arrow, pointing the tip at the captain’s chest. “Now,” he said, “remove your crew from our ship, or I promise, my next arrow _will not miss_.”

Alex had hoped the night would end silently after that, but the captain’s grin widened. Alex and Michael frowned.

“I see that my senses had not deceived me, after all,” he breathed, and as he came nearer, Alex saw that there _was_ something different about his eyes. “It _was_ magic I had felt on the waters.”

Alex’s frown deepened.

“What do you mean, _‘felt’_?” Michael demanded, holding his sword up to the captain’s chest. The crew would not rise after having been inflicted with a magical wound, Alex knew, and yet the captain grinned at Alex as if he had found a great treasure.

Alex stared. He had _known_ there was something different about this man’s eyes. They were dark, but they lit with a deep sapphire-blue, as if reflecting blue flames. “Your eyes,” he shook his head.

“His eyes?” Michael asked.

“Mine . . . mine turn to silver at times,” Alex said, slowly lowering his arrow despite himself. “It . . . can be the sign of a sorcerer.”

“But only of the most powerful,” the pirate grinned. He stepped closer to Alex, but Michael came to stand between them. The pirate’s grin widened.

“Sorcerer,” he said, “I am Captain Forrest, I am a pirate of the seas, and . . . I have been looking for you for a very, _very_ long time.”

Forrest’s crew would not be waking soon, that was something Alex had assured him of. Forrest did not seem the least bit deterred or upset. On the contrary, the news seemed to leave him overjoyed.

“Remarkable,” he whispered, lifting one of his crew member’s arms and letting it fall limp to the ground. “You’re even stronger than I am.”

“Of course, he is,” Michael said disdainfully. “I would leave now, if I were you. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I would certainly like to.”

Michael stood before Alex, hiding him completely from view. “Do not take another step towards him.”

Forrest’s eyes flickered momentarily, but it was gone as soon as it had come, and he grinned. “I’m a sorcerer. You’re a _Viking_. I do not expect a strong fight from you.”

“Then you would be underestimating him,” Alex said calmly. “A fool’s mistake.”

Forrest’s eyes narrowed. “How could _you_ refuse my offer? We are the last of our kind, are you not curious?”

“Last of our kind?” Alex frowned, and looked to Michael. He was happy to know he wasn’t the only one who was lost. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh dear,” Forrest pouted, his eyes wide in false sympathy. “Oh dearest deary dear, the pretty sorcerer doesn’t know.” He tilted his head. “Terribly sorry, young man, but sorcerers are extinct. You and me, we’re all that’s left.”

Alex took Michael’s hand without thinking. This man, this _pirate_ , seemed not to know of Mirolet, of the kingdom of sorcerers and sorceresses that existed not too far from where they sailed.

Michael held his gaze, as if asking Alex what he wanted them to do. Alex clenched his jaw.

“You’re lying,” he finally said, his voice strained. He was startled to find that it was not so difficult. “That cannot be true.”

Forrest’s expression faltered, his brows furrowed. “How long have you been sailing?”

“Our whole lives,” Michael said truthfully, as they both _had_ spent a lifetime traveling. It gave Alex comfort that Michael was following his lead. “We have – er – been in search of other sorcerers.”

“And yet you refuse to take advantage of my knowledge now?”

Alex scowled. “I would rather go on searching than take aid from a _pirate_.”

“Goodness,” Forrest muttered, smirking. “Think quite highly of yourself, do you?”

“Higher than of those who would invade another’s ship,” Alex said. “Certainly.”

“I have my reasons,” Forrest said, clearly amused. “Most of them pertaining to having _you_. A Viking and a sorcerer traveling together, there’s something quite romantic about that.”

“If he keeps looking at you,” Michael said through grit teeth, “I intend to run him through.”

Forrest barked a laugh. “Ooh, you really _mean_ that, don’t you?” He huffed. “Well, fortunately for you, I do not intend to stay long. I have quite the journey to make myself, though you can understand that I could not leave alone. Not now. _You_ ,” he pointed at Alex, “you will come with me.”

Alex notched an arrow, and Michael raised his sword. “You have no power to force me,” he said calmly, “and are in no position to make agreements.”

“Aren’t I?” Forrest asked, gesturing at Michael with his chin. “I have your lover.”

“Do you?” Michael smirked. “And how, in the name of _Loki_ , do you suppose that?”

“Simple,” Forrest grinned, and before Alex could react, Forrest raised his open hand at Michael, a deep blue glow emanating from his fingers. Michael’s jaw suddenly fell open, his hand clawing at his throat. Forrest was suffocating him.

“Stop it!” Alex yelled, raising a hand at Forrest.

“ _Really_ , archer,” Forrest said with an amused smirk, as if he thought Alex precious for believing he could fight back. “Have you no idea how magic _works_? I can snap his neck like a twig if I so wish it. Unless, of course, you decide to join me on my – _AH_!”

Forrest had been so distracted with Alex that he hadn’t noticed Michael raise his sword at him. Even as the Viking suffered a loss of breath, he had managed to yield his weapon, and swing downward in a large arch. The force of the hit pushed a strong wind into Forrest and knocked him into the edge of the ship. His hold on Michael was gone.

Alex instantly held a hand up, encasing Forrest in a sphere of water where he swung his arms wildly, his eyes wide as he drowned before them.

“I told you,” Alex hissed, “ _not_ to underestimate him.” He watched as Forrest gasped and choked on more water, and for a moment, Alex thought he might hold onto the spell until the pirate had ceased to move completely. Then –

_“Sorcerers are extinct. You and me, we’re all that’s left.”_

Alex gasped and dropped his hand, his sphere of water, as well as Forrest, falling to the ship’s deck. As Forrest sputtered and trembled, Alex stepped back.

Michael turned to him, his brows furrowed with concern. “Alex?”

“I can’t do it,” he whispered.

“Why not?” Forrest choked, and to Alex’s shock, he was still grinning widely. “ _Why not_ , I would not spare a thought to killing you.”

“You lie,” Alex said. “You are alone, however you try to deny it, and if you have searched for me for so long, then you do not wish to be alone any longer. Kill me, make an enemy of me, and you will have caused your own abandonment.”

Forrest glared up at Alex, the blue flames in his eyes glimmering dangerously. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Such pretty words,” he breathed, and as he did, Alex and Michael heard the crew around them begin to wake. “There is more to you two than meets the eye. I will discover what it is.”

“Captain?” the girl with raven hair said as she rose. She, it seemed, was not accustomed to seeing her captain soaked to the bone and on his knees. She glared with unabashed hatred at Michael and Alex, and held up her sword. “What have you done to him?”

“Rosa, put your weapon away,” he barked, and turned his grin on Alex. “These two will be our guests aboard the ship.”

The girl, _Rosa_ , faltered. “What?”

“We refuse to go anywhere with you,” Michael said.

Forrest chuckled, rising to his feet. He pressed a glowing hand to his chest, and he instantly dried. He returned his black hat to his head, and said, “Refuse all you like, Viking, but you will find I am _very_ persistent. Either accept now, or my ship will follow yours until it falls off the edge of the earth. And, a fair warning, pirates can be rather . . . _loud_.”

Michael and Alex looked to one another, and Alex knew what Michael was thinking, for he thought the same thing; they could not lead these pirates back to the village or Mirolet. Alex sighed. All they had to do was play along for now, and soon, they would overcome these pirates, return the ship back here, and continue on with their journey. One way or another, Captain Forrest had no chance of keeping Alex and Michael by his side.

Alex nodded. “Alright, then,” he said. “A fair warning to _you_ , however, and do keep the right mind to heed it, won’t you?”

Forrest stepped closer, hands on his hips. “And what warning would that be?”

At this, Michael smirked. “However _frightening_ you think pirates are, I assure you – you are _nothing_ compared to a Viking.”

*

Michael was clearly unhappy, though whether he was more displeased at abandoning their ship, or at watching the pirates take their food and clothing to their own lower deck, or at the very apparent way Captain Forrest stared at Alex as the crew surrounded them, leading them onto their ship – Alex did not know.

“Don’t bother with the swords,” Forrest said pleasantly to his crew. “They’re too strong for that.” His grin widened. “But, rest assured, my new friends, we pirates are nothing if not determined.”

The pirate ship was much larger than Alex and Michael’s had been, the sails black, the wood so dark that it almost looked black itself.

“Take them to their room,” Forrest said with a last look at Alex before he turned his back on them. “We’ll talk in the morning. I have something to tend to tonight.”

Their room was small, one bed against the back, a porthole on the opposing wall, letting in the moonlight.

Michael said nothing as he went to sit at the edge of the bed, his sword resting beside him.

Alex leaned against the wall, his hands folded behind his back. “Are you angry with me?”

Michael looked up at him, brows furrowed. “ _Angry_? No, no, my beauty, come here, please.”

Alex hesitated, and stepped into Michael’s open arms. Michael led him onto his lap, hugging his waist. He kissed Alex’s chest.

“Meeting another sorcerer was simply not what I had expected. They are so rare, after all. _You_ were only the second I’d ever met.”

“I had no idea,” Alex muttered. “I never knew how many others there were, like me, outside of Mirolet. I’d never met any on my journey, but I never expected that we were the only ones.” He shook his head, baffled. “How could he not have known?”

“How _was_ he to know?” Michael asked. “My beautiful archer, Mirolet may have been alive in your heart the past few centuries, but to the world, it’s been dead and gone. No one may even know it exists at all apart from us.”

Alex could find nothing to say in response to this. He thought of Mirolet, lost in the shadows to the world forever, and no one left alive to know it had gone. That could have been Alex himself. Lost forever if not for a few chance encounters. If not for Kyle and Michael. He took Michael’s hand without a word, and pulled it around his shoulders.

Michael held him closely, and Alex pressed his face against Michael’s shoulder until breathing became easier.

“You are safe with me,” Michael whispered into Alex’s hair. “I’m here.”

“He . . .” Alex said. “He thinks himself all that is left.”

Michael’s hand ran up and down Alex’s back. “You pity him.”

Alex opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, then opened again. “I remember what it felt like to be alone all those years, before Kyle. I am a prince of a kingdom of sorcerers –”

“Soon to be king,” Michael said with a small lilt of his lips, and Alex held on tighter to him.

“At any rate, how could I claim to care for my people if I abandon another sorcerer now?”

“But he is _not_ of Mirolet, Alex,” Michael said, cupping his jaw. “He is not your responsibility. He is a _pirate_ –”

“And you are a _Viking_ , and I am a _sorcerer_ ,” Alex defended. “No one could have foreseen us falling in love, and yet here we are.”

“That is very different.”

“How?”

“Well, for one, I am devastatingly handsome,” Michael argued, and Alex’s words caught on a laugh. “You had no choice but to fall for me!”

“I see,” Alex mumbled wearily, resting his cheek against Michael’s temple, Michael’s hand on his back warm and comforting. “So I’ve fallen victim to your unquestionable charm, have I?”

“Blame not yourself,” Michael said sagely. “I have been favored by the gods after all.”

“Ah yes,” Alex said, “I’d nearly forgotten that.” He paused, then, quietly, he asked, “Do the pirates frighten you?”

Michael kissed his chest again, then his neck. “Yes, I’m terribly afraid. Only thing left for it is to hold onto me so that I may find comfort in your body.”

Alex laughed fully now, and Michael clung to him, turning them over and pushing him down onto the bed. He rested over Alex’s chest, their legs tangled. Michael had one hand in Alex’s hair, the other lightly touching Alex’s jaw.

“Fear not, my archer. This is a mere delay. We will be back in Mirolet in no time at all.”

“And the pirate?”

Michael scowled. “I’m not particularly fond of him.”

“ _That_ , I already knew,” Alex said with a smile, but Michael still looked grim.

“Alex,” he said slowly, “I love you, and while your mercy and kindness can at times be a severe inconvenience to me –”

“—I knew that, as well –”

“—I have come to admire it beyond words.” He hesitated, then, “ _However_ , this man has lived a certain way for a very long time. You and I, of all people, should understand how difficult that is to change.”

“But we did,” Alex said quietly. “ _Change_. Didn’t we? There may not be a need to fight at all this time, maybe it will be different –”

“ _Alex_ ,” Michael said firmly now. “I do not want you to be discouraged if you cannot save him. And you very well may not be able to. I want you to be prepared.”

Alex searched Michael’s face, and he reached up to cup his cheeks. Michael’s eyes fluttered shut and he turned into the touch, kissing Alex’s palm.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Alex whispered, and Michael smiled softly.

As he breathed, his lips brushed Alex’s, making Alex’s own eyes fall shut. “Forever, my love.”

It seemed the pirates had expected Michael and Alex to be terrified to be amongst them, and so Michael seemed just as insistent on showing how little he cared where he was. Alex had gone to the ship’s top deck in the morning to find his Viking leaning against the edge, looking out over the ocean, his sword strapped to his side as it always was. He seemed not to notice the others as they cleaned the deck and raised the sails.

“You’re turning quite a few heads,” Alex muttered as he came to stand beside his love, his arm pressed against Michael’s. The ocean air left a chilling breeze down Alex’s spine, a chill only Michael’s warmth could calm.

Michael raised a brow. “Are you worried someone will take me from you? Do you doubt my loyalty?”

Alex could not help but smile. “Don’t make me laugh, this is a very serious and grim situation we’ve found ourselves in.”

“Ah, yes,” Michael groaned, looking over his shoulder. A few of the pirates seemed very unhappy indeed to find Michael and Alex were still there, and not dead at the seafloor. “Your quest to save the pirate captain. And not at all mad, incidentally.”

“I merely wish to find out more about him,” Alex said. “Though I do think it may be easier said than done. His crew hardly seems to want to let us out of their sights.”

“Need I remind you,” Michael whispered, “that we are here because we _want_ to be. Not because we _have_ to be. These _pirates_ cannot harm either one of us.”

Alex hummed, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose so. I only wish we could speak to Forrest, though at this rate, I feel that may be –”

“Boys!” they heard, and looked over their shoulders to find Forrest watching them from the helm, leaning forward on his crossed arms. He smirked, amused. “Good morning! Enjoy your first night aboard the Black Starship?”

Michael crossed one foot over the other, snaking an arm around Alex’s waist. “Oh we’ve had the most marvelous time. Everyone does have the faint scent of fish, however, which is a tad unfortunate.”

“A life on the sea,” Forrest shrugged. “There’s hardly much else to be done for it. Rosa!” he called. “Have the crew prepare breakfast. Our guests are to eat in my quarters.”

Rosa, the girl with raven hair and red lips, put her hands on her hips and tilted her head at Michael and Alex, considering. “Are you certain you wouldn’t like me to accompany you, Captain?”

Forrest’s eyes rested on Alex, his grin widening. “Nothing you can do will offer any protection, Rosa. If they wish to kill me, I fear no one on this earth will be able to stop them. Should be quite an interesting morning.”

The captain’s quarters were larger than Alex and Kyle’s cottage had been, composed of a wide room with a table in front of an armchair against the opposing wall. There hung an assortment of gold swords and trinkets against one wall, and items Alex recognized as spoils on shelves against the other. Everything from vases to a hook to jewelry tainted with blood. Alex felt ill.

“Please, sit down,” Forrest gestured to the armchairs on the other side of the table that was now covered in a spread of cheeses, bread, eggs, grapes, and fish. Alex and Michael sat.

Forrest watched them with his elbow on the table, smiling into his own palm. “You two are very fond of one another, aren’t you? You move perfectly together, for two natural enemies, that is.” He held up a glass of wine, smirking at Michael. “Not like Vikings and pirates. Natural _allies_.”

“Yes,” Michael said with an empty smirk, “the irony of loathing you and loving _him_ ,” he gestured to Alex with his chin, “has not escaped me.”

“ _Love_?” the blue flames in Forrest’s dark eyes sparked. “That’s quite a word, and to use it so brazenly. I must confess, in all my years exploring, I’ve yet to come across a pair of lovers as you.”

Alex leaned forward. “How long _have_ you been exploring, exactly?”

Forrest shrugged lazily. “Too long a time to remember. I learned to lower sails before I’d learned to run. All the better. The entire sea is my ship, and I am its captain.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at the silent threat; _there is nowhere you can go on the water where I will not find you._

“Michael and I have sailed for a long time as well.”

“Not as a pirate,” Forrest said. “I assure you, no Viking or mere sorcerer will know the ocean as we do.”

_Interesting_ , Alex thought. There was a softness in Forrest’s voice as he talked about the water. Why? What had initially pushed him to become a pirate at all? Had he, like Alex, been running from something when he was merely a boy?

Forrest tilted his head at Alex, his smile in place. “I do not frighten you,” he observed. Alex looked away. Forrest bit his lower lip, huffing a laugh. “No, not either of you. And yet _something_ about me intimidates you, otherwise you would not have left your ship and come with me so willingly.”

Alex said nothing. Forrest did not seem the kind of man that would take well to sympathy, to a desperate attempt to be helped by a stranger he’d never known.

“You are a sorcerer,” Michael said plainly, and Alex was spared having to answer. “As is Alex. Consider us intrigued.”

Forrest searched Michael’s face, seemingly looking for the lie. Before he could find one, however, Alex asked, “How do you know we are the last of our kind? How can you be certain?”

The corner of Forrest’s lips quirked slightly. “Eat,” he gestured at the food, “you must be starving.”

“Surely there must be others,” Alex pressed. “You have not explored all the world to know for certain, there could be others – _off_ the water.”

“There isn’t,” Forrest said, his smile dimmer now. “Eat.”

“ _How_ do you know?”

“I _know_ ,” Forrest said, the blue flames in his eyes spitting gold embers now. “Now, for the gods’ sakes, man, _eat_.” He scoffed. “You are far too pale for a sailor.”

Alex clenched his jaw. He realized too late that Forrest was searching _his_ face now, looking for a secret truth. Alex had no idea what Forrest had seen, but his smirk pinched at the corner.

“You are a very handsome man,” Forrest said, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers. “You are a _sorcerer_ who secured a Viking. Let me ask _you_ a question now; _how_ did you manage it? They are barbaric, aren’t they? Would you not rather have a lover of your own kind?”

“Alex,” Michael warned, and Alex put a hand on his arm. He felt Michael’s muscles tense under his touch, and he remembered that as much as Michael loved him, the Viking was made of a proud fire. He only barely tolerated Kyle’s insults, but Alex did not think Forrest would be granted the same courtesy.

Forrest, however, did not seem the least bit concerned. On the contrary, Michael’s reaction seemed to have been exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“Tell me, Viking,” he said, heaving a deep sigh as he leaned back in his armchair, a bundle of black grapes in hand. “How can you be certain that Alex’s feelings for you are real? That your feelings for _him_ are real? Could he be spelling you? Seems likely, with his power, doesn’t it?”

Michael was on his feet in an instant, before Alex could object or say his name, his sword out and its tip pointed at Forrest’s chest.

“Michael!” Alex gripped his shoulder.

“ _Oh_ ,” Forrest said, the blue flames blazing. “Look at that, _Michael_ , he cares about you! How absolutely _darling_.” He looked to Alex serenely. “D’you know, I’ve never met another man so loving as you are, it’s quite refreshing. Or terribly dull, one of the two, I haven’t decided.”

“I will cut you in half, _pirate_ ,” Michael hissed.

“No, I don’t think you will,” Forrest said calmly, crossing his foot on the table, tossing a grape into his mouth. “You clearly could have killed me last night, and yet you come with me. You could have killed me since entering my quarters, and you have yet to do that either. Forgive me, but your _pathetic_ little threats are not very threatening when I _know_ you want me alive.”

Forrest shrugged. “I’ve yet to understand why, but I will. Our voyage is not long, but it will be enough to uncover your secrets. If there’s one thing a pirate’s good for, after all, it’s finding buried treasure.”

“Where _are_ we voyaging to?” Alex demanded, his hands firmly on Michael’s chest, keeping him from lunging across the table.

“That’s not for you to concern yourself with, pretty archer,” Forrest said, his eyes boring into Alex’s. He smiled. “In the meantime, I suggest we take comfort in our temporary mutual desire to see the other breathing. Best make yourselves comfortable.”

Forrest grabbed a loaf of bread off the table and tossed it at Alex who caught it without looking away from the pirate. Forrest’s grin widened. “Treat the ship as if it is your home. And fear not, Alex, you and I will speak again.”

“THAT BASTARD!” Michael swung his sword and cut a hole in the empty wall of their chamber.

“Michael,” Alex tried again, his arms crossed as he stood by the opposing wall. “Do calm yourself.”

“I _detest_ him, Alex,” Michael said, swinging his sword again, caring little for the interior of the ship. Alex was only grateful he was not chopping into the wall separating them from the ocean. “I want to kill him.”

“I know you do,” Alex sighed. “But we _had_ expected this, hadn’t we? It was never going to be easy.”

“The way he _looks_ at you!” Michael went on. “‘A love of your own kind’ – _ridiculous_!”

“I agree,” Alex said firmly, attempting to catch Michael’s attention. “ _Michael_.”

“ _What_?!” he snapped, and Alex said nothing, merely calmly holding his lover’s gaze. Slowly, Michael’s breathing turned deeper, and his eyes softened. The hand carrying his sword fell to his side, and he visibly clenched his jaw. “Alex, I . . .”

Alex shook his head, holding out his arms. Michael sheathed his sword and stepped into Alex’s embrace with a sigh, his face buried in the crook of Alex’s neck.

“I love you,” Alex said into Michael’s shoulder. “I love you so much, it pains me. Do you doubt it?”

Michael pulled back, horrified. “ _No_! No, Alex, I could never –”

“Then you have nothing to fear with Forrest,” Alex said, taking Michael’s face in his hands and kissing his lips. “You,” he whispered against his lips, “are all I want. And at any rate,” he said, smiling, “if you did not lose me to Kyle, you will certainly not lose me to anyone else.”

Whatever peace had been on Michael’s face fell away, and his fingers dug into Alex’s waist. “There, you’ve gone and done it, I hate that hunter all over again. _Months_ of learning to tolerate his presence, lost. I hope you’re pleased!”

Alex laughed, and it fell to a hum against Michael’s shoulder as he pulled him in closely. “My love, my sanity. Stay close to me. I fear what may happen if I lose sight of you on this journey.”

Alex only realized that he had said too much when Michael’s concerned voice sounded in his ear. “Alex?”

He blinked rapidly, clearing his throat. “Er – a jest, I assure you. I am not as clever with them as you are.”

Michael granted him a smile, though he clearly did not believe him. Alex leaned in, kissing him deeply before he took his hand, and led him out.

“Come along,” Alex said. “If we are to find our way around this ship, we best explore what we can of it.”

No sooner had Alex and Michael left their cabin than they were accosted in the hallway outside by a stockier woman in trousers and a white shirt cut down the center. Her wild hair curled around her square jaw, and her dark eyes darted between Michael and Alex, settling on Michael, and she smiled widely.

“ _Goodness_ , the moonlight did you no justice,” she said. “You two _are_ very pretty. You, Viking, would look _wonderful_ in my room, stuffed and stripped, of course.”

Michael looked confused, as if certain he had heard wrong, but Alex gave the woman a cold smile, and her smug expression faltered. “And are you our guide? Surely, Captain Forrest knows that having us watched is pointless.”

The woman did not seem to appreciate Alex mentioning her captain’s name, and she raised her chin, her gaze defiant. “If you so wish me to be your guide, I _will_ be.” She scoffed. “Better than mopping the deck.”

“Are you certain you want to do that, Steph?” a tall man walked in, a golden headscarf tied around his head. He had a scar under one eye, but his smile as he looked from Alex to Michael and then back again was humorous, cheerful even. “These two are dangerous.”

“I know what you’re doing, Noah.”

“What am I doing?”

“You’re trying to frighten me so that you can follow the sorcerer around!” Steph said, glaring at Alex. “Don’t know why you would, he ought to be taught a lesson for knocking us out as he did!”

“The Viking _slashed_ us! What of him?!”

Alex heard Michael scoff behind him and refrained from rolling his eyes. The idea that there were people outside their door now, following them around and listening to every word they said was irritating enough. The last thing he and Michael needed was two bitter, vengeful pirates _attempting_ to return the favor of their injuries.

“Yes,” Alex said dryly. “Do go on, we’ll just be off then.” He took Michael’s hand and began to lead him down the hallway. They made it as far as the first step of the staircase leading up to the top deck before he realized they were being followed.

He looked around and saw Steph and Noah were only silently bickering with one another, though they seemed content enough with trailing after Alex and Michael.

Alex looked to Michael who shrugged irritably, and Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. _Oh well, then._

“I see the visitors have left their cages – ah, I mean, _chambers_.”

Rosa stalked towards them on the deck, her arms crossed, her red skirt swaying in the breeze. She smirked, but her dark eyes as she looked between Alex and Michael could cut glass.

“I see you’ve survived a sword through your chest,” Michael said with the same empty smirk.

“Our captain protects us,” Rosa said with her chin raised. “And we protect him.”

Alex sighed. “I gather you’re not pleased he’s found another sorcerer, then.”

“I’m delighted he’s found another sorcerer,” she said angrily. “Just not that the sorcerer is _you_. I do not trust you. I do not trust anyone that harms my captain.”

“Wonderful,” Michael said, moving in front of Alex. “We do not trust you either.”

“Then we are in agreement,” Rosa said with her head tilted. “And, rest assured, I will be watching you _closely_. _You two_!” she snapped. “What on earth are you doing? You’re meant to be helping Sanders clean out the storage!”

“I wanted to follow the Viking!” Steph complained.

“And I wanted to see what the sorcerer would do,” Noah said cheerfully.

“You have _duties_ aboard this ship! Get to them!”

Noah and Steph looked thoroughly displeased, but they trudged off. Rosa smiled, her arms crossed. “Now. If you choose to see the rest of the ship, you will see only what I allow. Come with me.”

Michael and Alex wordlessly followed. They were taken around the top deck of the ship, shown knots in the floors, holding down sails, fish nets, and multiple anchors, lifeboats, and oars. Below, there were a few chambers that Rosa forbid them from entering. They met Sanders, the old man that Alex had first knocked out with his arrow. He had an eyepatch and a wild look in his one blue eye. When it settled on Alex, it widened.

“You’re older than _I_ am!” he exclaimed, and Rosa rolled her eyes.

“Yes, yes, Sanders, I’m certain he is,” she said dryly, already walking away.

Sanders, they discovered, had been taken in since he had lost his family to Vikings when he was young.

“He’s been beaten aside the head too often since then to remember now,” Rosa said, and grinned viciously. “But I wouldn’t say the word _Viking_ around him, if I were you.”

Alex had stolen a glance at Michael, but the Viking had an unreadable look in his eyes. It was not comforting, not when Alex had been so accustomed to being able to read Michael’s expression so easily.

They found out Steph and Noah had been from the same village, taken in by pirates from another ship as children when they’d been stolen from their homes and caged to be sold as slaves. There was a woman, Charlie, who liked to sit on the edge of the ship with the birds and watch the dolphins streaking past. Rosa told them that she had been silent since they’d found her a year ago, stranded in the ocean. She’d been serenely floating on the water, her arms out, as if waiting to die.

“She’d fought us when we dragged her aboard, but,” Rosa shrugged, “the captain would not leave her to die. She refused to eat, but Wyatt was persistent.”

“Who?”

Rose nudged her chin up in response, and Michael and Alex saw a young man with a wooden plate of fish and vegetables in one hand, and a stool in the other, come to Charlie’s side. He set the stool against the edge of the ship, and he wordlessly handed Charlie the plate, his eyes on the ocean. Charlie began picking at the food, and the corner of Wyatt’s lips rose slightly.

Alex felt something stutter in his chest at the sight, but Michael asked, “How do you know you can trust her? You know nothing of her past.”

Rosa looked at him with disgust. “Proof you have not been listening to a word I’ve said. The _past_ does not matter, Viking, not to a pirate. Our sole concern is today’s wave as it rocks the ship, nothing more.”

“And if she murders you in your sleep?”

“Michael –”

“What, Alex?” Michael said curtly. “I cannot trust so easily as you do.”

Alex was startled. Michael seemed adamant on avoiding his eyes, but Alex took his hand gently, and Michael held back tightly.

Rosa seemed unimpressed. “Brilliant, _exactly_ what I’d been hoping for today; a Viking with a temper.”

They ate as the sun began to set, everyone seated around the ship’s deck in no particular placement. Alex supposed they saw so much of each other all the time that they felt no desperate need to sit together for a meal as he and Kyle might’ve felt, or Michael and his village.

Alex was more concerned with Michael than he was with his food. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Michael had been silent since their exploration of the ship began. Rosa had gone to the captain’s quarters, and Alex turned to Michael, setting his plate down.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Michael,” he said, “you were angry with me.”

Michael turned to him, and his eyes softened. He took Alex’s hand in his and kissed his fingers. “Never. Only angry with myself.”

Alex blinked as Michael moved to stand at the edge of the ship, staring out at the ocean. He followed. “What for?”

Just as Michael opened his mouth to answer, Forrest called, “Alex!”

The two looked over to find the captain standing by his door, beckoning them over. Rosa stood beside him, fuming.

Alex felt Michael’s hand come around his waist possessively. Michael’s jaw was clenched, his angry eyes on Forrest. Alex covered Michael’s hand on his waist with his own.

“Come along, boys, a captain mustn’t call twice!” Forrest grinned widely, and Alex took Michael’s hand in his before leading them to Forrest. Rosa walked past them, her eyes shooting daggers. It was a look that reminded Alex awfully of Kyle whenever his friend was frustrated by him and his ventures.

“Come in, Alex, come in,” Forrest said eagerly, and Alex felt Michael’s hand on his tighten.

The table was, once again, laid with a variety of dishes; fish, vegetables, water, and wine. There two glasses of wine ready for both Forrest and, Alex assumed, himself. Michael seemed to notice as well and emitted a low growl. Before sitting down, he took the glass, drained it in one gulp, and tossed it behind him where it shattered against the wall before he wrapped an arm around Alex’s waist and pulled them both onto one armchair, keeping Alex on his lap.

Forrest still smirked, but the flames in his eyes danced dangerously. “You wait until tonight, Viking,” was all he said before took a delicate sip of his own glass and leaned back.

He spread his hands out over the table. “Eat, Alex. Unless your lover forbids that as well?”

Alex shuffled slightly until he was seated just beside Michael’s leg instead of on it. He did not touch any of the food. “Where are we going? Where is this journey to?”

Forrest leaned forward. “I could feed you, if you’d like. I don’t mind it.”

“Answer the question, pirate,” Michael said darkly.

“You seem more upset than usual,” Forrest tilted his head. “Have my words gotten to you?”

“Do not speak to him,” Alex said. “Tell me where we are going, or I stop the ship now.”

Forrest smiled. “I thought you were too intrigued to stop me.”

“I care far more about Michael than I do your mystery, and would rather see him happy than suffering for my curiosity. Now,” Alex leaned forward, “ _where are we going_?”

Alex did not turn to look at Michael, though the Viking’s hold on him did not tighten. Alex took that as a good sign, and the tightening knot in his chest loosened slightly.

Forrest searched Alex’s face, and hummed. “Endow Island – small, not too far from here now. A week’s journey.”

Alex looked to Michael, and he still looked displeased, but Alex was glad to know he was not the only one surprised.

“ _Endow_ Island?” Alex asked.

“That’s where we were traveling,” Michael muttered.

The blue flames flickered slightly. “What for?”

Michael did not seem to want to answer, so Alex said, “The land’s soil; fruit, vegetables, plenty of fish and other animals – they say the earth itself breeds riches.”

“In more ways than one,” Forrest sighed wistfully. “The island hides gold in its depths, more than you could ever fathom. One particular piece of treasure; the Goblet of Mirolet.”

Alex stilled, and he felt Michael still beside him. Alex’s heart hammered painfully in his chest – he did not think he would ever grow accustomed to the feeling of a racing heartbeat – but he cooled his expression.

“What did you just say?”

“Mirolet?” Alex repeated. “What do you know of Mirolet?”

Forrest’s grin widened to something hopeful, and Alex’s breath caught in his throat. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Er – rumors,” Alex said, rubbing his face with one hand. “Fairytales.”

“They’re all true,” Forrest said excitedly. “Supposedly, the stories say that Mirolet was a kingdom of sorcerers! Can you believe that? More of our kind!”

Alex felt Michael’s hand rise up his spine and settle on his shoulder. He was going to be ill.

“The Goblet was forged by the first sorcerers to ever inhabit the kingdom, the _founders_. It contains magical properties so that you could drink _water_ out of it, and inherit powers.”

Michael frowned. “You want to give yourself _more_ power?”

“Don’t be foolish,” Forrest said impatiently. “The Goblet won’t work on sorcerers. But it can –”

“Transform a human to one,” Alex finished, then realized the others were staring at him. “I’m assuming.”

“Yes,” Forrest said, pride in his voice. “ _Yes_ , Alex, don’t you see? We won’t be alone anymore. We can _create_ more wizards and witches, we can have our people back!”

“Where have you heard of this? Of Mirolet?”

“I,” Forrest faltered slightly. “Well, I – the legend has a bit of a mysterious past, it’s not . . . _fully_ proven, but in all my years of searching, I’ve heard enough of the kingdom to believe it could have been real. I – I cannot find it, I do not think it stands any longer, but it’s true. It _must_ be.”

“Yes,” Alex said, his voice barely over a whisper. “Must be.”

Forrest must have mistaken his tone for doubt because he leaned over the table, nearly spilling a jug of water. “Alex, I know it sounds _mad_. But we won’t be alone anymore. We won’t ever have to be again. Years of misery, years of – of solitude, of looking around and realizing that you are _all_ there is. We will never have to feel that way again.”

Alex looked up, searching Forrest’s dark eyes, the blue flames soft despite his wicked grin. “No,” he choked. “We will not.”

_CRASH!_

Alex, Michael, and Forrest instantly rose to their feet. They heard nothing a moment, then the _CRASH!_ sounded again, and they ran to the door.

The sky had turned dark, the moon high, and all the crew members were grouped around the top deck, each a longsword in hand, Rosa yelling orders to the others. What stood before them was something Alex had faced himself a few times before in the past; a kraken. Its large head rose high above the ship, nearly hiding the moon, its tentacles circling the ship completely, breaking the floorboards, tearing the sails, snapping masts in half. As debris fell, several of the crew yelled, swinging at the tentacles, barely nicking the creature.

“Bloody brilliant,” Michael muttered, though somehow loud enough for Alex to hear.

“Have you ever faced a kraken before?” Alex asked, summoning his bow and arrows. As he drew his arms back, his quiver appeared at his back, his bow in hand, an arrow notched. His eyes still burned and his throat felt full of wool. What was happening to him? Why was he still struggling to take a breath?

“Twice,” Michael yelled now as the sound of the ship’s broken floors grew louder. He unsheathed his sword. “Keep close to me!”

“He will not need to!” Forrest laughed wildly, his hands already glowing with a deep blue. “Not with the full moon out tonight! Our powers are in full strength!”

Alex faltered. “The full moon?”

As the kraken swung around, Alex saw that behind its head was indeed the full moon, and as soon as its light touched Alex, he felt his heart leap in his chest. It was no wonder he’d been feeling ill.

Michael seemed to have the same idea that Alex had; while Forrest or _any_ sorcerer from Mirolet may find strength by the full moon, Alex was rendered weak.

“Stay close to me, my love,” Michael repeated more quietly. Alex did.

The kraken roared into the night, and struck down roughly with a tentacle, creating a big hole in the top deck that Steph had fallen through.

“Aim for its eyes!” Forrest called. “That’s its weak spot!”

Alex watched as Forrest’s hands filled with blue flame and he shot it at the kraken’s head, every hit getting closer and closer to its small, yellow eyes.

“You heard our captain!” Rosa demanded, attempting to stab a tentacle coming near Charlie with her sword, though doing very little to cut it. The waves crashed loudly against the ship, and the kraken waved them around wildly, throwing them off their balance. Alex’s heart raced in his chest, though it was not fear he felt. His skin felt hot to the touch, and his breaths were turning shallower and quicker with every passing second.

Michael was the only one succeeding in cutting down approaching tentacles while Forrest kept shooting fire at the creature’s face. Alex was going to faint, he knew he was. He stumbled slightly where he stood, unable to take a clear shot with his arrow. And that’s when he saw it –

As Rosa fought one tentacle, she failed to spot the one closing in behind her. Alex clenched his jaw tightly, notched his arrow, and summoned whatever power he had into his weapon. The arrow tip turned to a bright silver, and Alex released it. It shot through the air with a loud whistle and a beam of white light, and severed one large tentacle at the base.

Rosa turned to see what had fallen, startled. Another two were making their way towards her, and Alex ran, pushing her out of the way with his own body just as the tentacles crashed into the spot where she’d been standing.

“Y-you,” Rosa breathed, eyes wide. “Why would you save me?”

Alex could not answer. His actions, his use of his magic, had exhausted him. He struggled to breathe, to get off his knees. He could feel Rosa’s hand hovering above his shoulder, and saw that he’d gotten the kraken’s complete attention. It struck at him with all its limbs at once, growling from a mouth Alex could not see.

Alex heard Michael scream his name before the Viking was standing before him, guarding him, his sword raised. With a yell, Michael swung his sword once, and the tentacles were severed.

The creature shrieked so loudly Alex felt as if his ears were bleeding. He fell to his elbows, unable to lift his head. The kraken suddenly glowed with a deep blue light, and it was lifted out of the water. Alex struggled to look up, but he saw Forrest standing before him as well, his hands raised, his entire body strained to keep hold of the creature. He screamed, the light of his magic grew brighter, and the kraken was shot high and far across the sea, disappearing in the horizon.

The waters took a moment to still, but Michael was already kneeling by Alex’s side, turning him over, his head on Michael’s shoulder.

Alex could hardly see at all now, the darkness surrounding his vision, but he managed to make out Michael’s angry concern, Rosa’s shock, and Forrest panting above him, looking at him strangely.

“What on earth just happened?” he demanded as Michael moved Alex’s hair back from his eyes. “The full moon is meant to make sorcerers _stronger_ , not weaker! Explain yourself!”

“He cannot say a word now!” Michael growled. “He needs rest!” Alex felt Michael’s arms around him tighten protectively. They had no idea how the pirates would react if one of them had fallen. Would they attempt to kill Michael? To kill Alex? Would they watch and laugh as Alex turned cold with fever here and died?

“Any sorcerer would have been protected by the full moon,” Forrest said, shaking his head.

“Any sorcerer _would_ have been protected,” Michael snapped. “But Alex is not _any_ sorcerer.”

“He doesn’t look too good, does he?” Sanders murmured as he neared Alex.

“Captain?” Wyatt looked to Forrest, panting himself. He had a cut along his cheek and a gash on his arm. “What are your orders?”

It felt as if an eternity passed, Forrest’s eyes angry on Alex, the blue flames flickering with more gold. “Well?” he barked suddenly. “What are you waiting for? An invitation? Charlie, Steph, Sanders – you will help those gravely wounded. Then the lot of you will clean these damn tentacles off my ship. Rosa,” he said. “Accompany Michael and Alex to my quarters. I would like a word.”

With one wave of Forrest’s glowing hand, all the damage to the top deck, the sails, the mast – it all mended itself, as if never broken at all. Alex felt Michael pull him to his feet, and to his surprise, Rosa stood under his other his arm, taking half of his weight.

“You are most certainly not like any sorcerer I ever imagined,” Forrest said to Alex. “But I will have my answers, one way or another.”

And Alex’s world quickly turned dark.

Alex had grown too accustomed to waking in Michael’s arms, for as his eyes opened slowly to a porthole and strong moonlight shining into the small room, he could not help but notice that he was alone in bed.

Centuries of waking to a cold side of the sheets, he realized, could not seem to protect him from the aching loneliness of being without his Viking for even a moment.

Then he felt a dip in the mattress beside him and a hand on his cheek, and the knot of tension in his chest eased.

“My beauty,” Michael muttered, coming into Alex’s line of sight, bathed in moonlight. “There you are. I was beginning to worry.”

“You?” Alex said. He’d meant it to sound teasing, but his voice was hoarse, his throat aching. “What happened?”

“You were awake for most of it, were you not?” Forrest asked, an edge in his voice. “Not much changed in the time it took to bring you here.”

“Calm your tone when you speak to him,” Michael growled.

“Explain to me something,” Forrest said to Alex as he pulled himself into a sitting position, ignoring Michael completely. “You are not the only sorcerer I had ever met in my lifetime, there were others, and _all_ of them were strengthened during the full moon. That is, after all, where sorcerer draw strength from.”

“I know that,” Alex said wearily.

“And yet _you_ ,” he pressed, almost desperate, “you were _weakened_. Why?”

“That is none of your concern –” Michael started, but Forrest turned his glare on him.

“It is if I intend to keep you on my ship,” he said curtly, then looked back to Alex. “I have been searching for another of my kind for too long, if you are _not_ a real sorcerer –”

“I am.”

“Then _why_ does the moon hurt you?”

“Because of the curse,” Alex said, and both Michael and Forrest turned silent. Michael’s eyes were inquisitive, as if asking Alex if he was certain he knew what he was doing. Alex could not give him an answer. All he knew for certain was that Forrest was a sorcerer left without his own kind for too long, and Alex was a prince, and it was his duty to be of help. He could not tell Forrest the whole truth, not yet, but he could tell him most of it.

“What curse?” Forrest asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Alex,” Michael warned, but Alex was already speaking.

“I may not look it,” Alex said, “but I am hundreds of years old.”

And so Alex told him. He told him of his father who had hated who he was, who had attempted to steal a book of spells. How Alex had cast the spell first and turned himself immortal, but not without consequences for his magic had not been strong enough for such an enchantment, and how he had met Michael when he’d sailed to the Vikings’ land and they had been together since.

He had left out certain details he was sure Michael had spotted; Forrest did not know that Jesse had been a king, that he had wanted to banish all magic from Mirolet entirely, that Alex was a prince of a kingdom of sorcerers, and certainly did not know the intimate details of Michael and Alex’s meetings. It was not lies he had told, but parts of a truth. That was what he told himself, and by the end of it, Forrest was silent a long time. Then –

“This curse . . . fought against your own magic?”

“And it would not allow me to die,” Alex nodded. “On the nights when there is no moon, my weakened state would turn to simple exhaustion because the curse was healing my body, and on nights of the full moon –”

“Your magic was stronger, so your curse made you suffer as it kept your powers from growing.” Forrest narrowed his eyes. “Your body was a battleground between the curse and your magic for _centuries_.”

Alex sighed, rubbing his face. He still felt warm, though as the night passed on, he could feel himself slowly regaining strength. “It used to be much worse, but after the curse ended, I suppose my body is still . . . adjusting. I will get feverish, faint, nothing more.”

Forrest pursed his lips. “And how exactly _did_ you manage to end the curse?”

Alex hesitated, glancing at Michael. “I suppose . . . love ended it. Michael and I were destined to find each other, my magic was at its strongest when we were together. The spell to fix everything was revealed to us in time. Having him saved me.”

Michael would not meet his eyes, not even as Alex took his hand.

Alex looked to Forrest and saw the pirate watching intently. “Do you believe me?”

Forrest tilted his head, his eyes narrowed. “I do. When I first laid eyes on you, I knew there was something different about you. I had thought it was simply that you were the most beautiful man I had ever met.”

Michael began to stand, but Forrest chuckled emptily. “Not now, Viking, I hardly think Alex’s sickroom is a proper place for your temper.”

With a glance at Alex, Michael sat down, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his blade.

“What of you?” Alex asked, hoping to change the conversation. “What other sorcerers have you met? Why become a pirate?”

For a moment, Forrest grinned and Alex thought he would not answer, but then the flames in his eyes softened to a pale blue, and his smile dimmed.

“Not a tale so tragic as yours, I’m afraid,” he said lightly, even as his fingers tugged at the blanket covering Alex’s legs. “I fell in love with a man who had discovered what I was, and tried to kill me in my sleep. After a night together. He said it was a mercy, that he was doing it because he loved me; he said it would be cruel to leave me alive in a world that was extinct of magic.

“Of course, I had known sorcerers as a child, but one after the other, they had all disappeared. I’d later realized they’d been murdered by those who had discovered them. Some by their mothers or fathers, some by their siblings, some by their closest friends. As a young man, I knew of none. But I had escaped the man I had once loved, and – the _bastard_ , I could not stand the thought of him being right. I’d always loved sailing, and I had no home left there. So I took my friend, Rosa, who would have been better off orphaned, believe you me, and we set sail, in search of sorcerers. This was many years ago.”

“And you found Alex,” Michael said.

Forrest scoffed, shaking his head as if what Michael had said was not adequate enough to the treasure the pirate had finally uncovered. “Finding you, Alex, has proven him wrong. Magic is _not_ evil, it is not impure. You’ve proven it in your love and defense of others.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said quietly. “About that man you loved.”

Forrest seemed momentarily startled, his expression faltering for the slightest second. “For what? He may have been a king, but he was a bloody lunatic.”

“A _king_?” Michael blinked. “A king tried to kill you?”

“I suppose he was afraid of my power.”

Alex’s fingers curled to fists in his blankets. “A king fears nothing.”

Forrest smirked. “I gather you have not met many kings, then.” He seemed to realize how softly he was speaking, and he cleared his throat, standing. “You will be all right in the morning?”

Alex nodded. Forrest said, “You fear for me, Alex, though I cannot say why. Why worry for a pirate who you have known no more than a day?”

Alex said nothing, and Forrest smiled. This time, to Alex’s surprise, it was almost kind. “Be careful, archer. If you concern yourself so deeply with strangers, one may begin to think that losing your immortality has turned you mad.”

He winked at Alex and left the archer and Viking sitting in silence.

Alex sighed as he let his head fall back against the pillows. His eyes were closed, and to his growing dread, Michael was still quiet.

“Go on, then,” Alex said.

“What?”

“Say what you would like to say.”

“I want to say nothing,” Michael responded.

“Why not?” Alex said. “Am I so fragile, you fear I may break if you tell me you are angry?”

“I have already told you, I’m not angry with you.”

“Well, you’re certainly angry about _something_ ,” Alex said curtly. “What is it?”

Alex might have expected Michael to get angry, impatient, temperamental, but he only stared ahead at the porthole, his jaw set. Alex hesitated, and reached out to touch his cheek, letting his fingers fall to Michael’s lips. He feared Michael would move away, but the Viking leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering despite himself. He took Alex’s hand in his own and kissed his palm, each of his fingers, his wrist.

Alex watched as Michael inhaled his scent, pressing his lips harder into his palm. Then –

“Would you want me to drink from the Goblet?” he asked.

Alex blinked. “What in the name of Zeus are you talking about? The Goblet _isn’t real_.”

“But what if it was?” Michael insisted. “Would you want me to drink from it? To become a sorcerer, like you?”

“Have you gone mad? You _hate_ magic!”

“When we first met,” Michael’s eyes closed, “you _loathed_ me –”

Alex, startled, said, “I did not know you then –”

“No, Alex, you _did_. I murdered the innocent, I stole land and treasure and life,” he huffed, “and if you did not hate that life so passionately, I do not think I would have stopped. In truth, I . . . I am not so ashamed of my actions, only what they could have cost you.”

“I know that,” Alex said quietly.

Michael shrugged helplessly. “I am still a Viking. I still believe I am the favored, I only . . . know that you are favored as well. You must be, for you are nothing short of a gift.”

Alex searched his love’s face. He could not list all the ways he disagreed, all the ways he thought Michael was wrong, for he certainly did not _feel_ like a gift to anyone.

He could not manage it, so he would not attempt it. Instead, he held Michael’s face in his hands, and softly kissed his lips. “When we first met,” he said, “I thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. I told myself I hated you for what you were, and I was content with that.”

Michael smiled sadly. “You knew I would ruin your quest.”

“It certainly gave me an excuse to keep you at a distance,” Alex said. “But you were persistent. You looked at me with such passion, every touch burned my skin though I could not feel ice or fire.”

“I loved you the moment I saw you,” Michael whispered, and Alex shut his eyes as their foreheads pressed together.

“I know we are different, and I know it may feel as if I do not notice your troubles or the changes you’ve made for me, but I _promise_ you, I do.” Alex’s eyes burned. “Michael, I . . . I fear so much now, _all_ the time. I fear the cold, and the warmth, and the moon, and I fear growing old. Some days, it seems that I only survive because I have you. _You_ , my beautiful Viking, are all that keeps me sane when everything seems so paralyzing.”

“But what if I destroy our quest?” Michael asked desperately. “What if we fail because of me?”

Alex shrugged helplessly. His eyes burned, and briefly, he wondered if the pain in his heart was because of the fever, or because of Michael’s warmth coursing throughout his body.

He’d once found Elias with a blood-stained pendant around his own neck, and now the boy’s life ambition was to return the pendant to its owner. _That_ , Alex reminded himself, _was a boy. This is a grown man, long since set in his ways._

Alex shut his eyes against the thought. Michael had changed. _He_ , himself, had changed when all hope had seemed lost. Perhaps they had only changed for each other, for people they loved, but what showed greater power than that? Perhaps there was hope for Forrest yet.

He whispered. “What if we don’t?”

The next morning, the ship had been cleaned and mended, and had Alex not the ache in his side from having pushed Rosa out of harm’s way, he might have imagined that the entire ordeal with the kraken had been a dream.

He had woken Michael by kissing along his chest, his stomach, running his tongue between Michael’s legs, and now, as he felt Michael stand beside him, he was able to finally breathe better.

Rosa had seemed in much more gracious spirits the following few days, in that she only threw the loafs of bread and fruit at Alex and Michael’s heads rather than the entire wooden board.

In that time, however, Alex saw less and less of Forrest. Alex had tried knocking on the door to his quarters, and was met with a, “Very busy! Off with you!”

The captain seemed not to want to see him at all, and Alex could not understand why. When he mentioned this to Michael, the Viking raised a brow, the corners of his lips pinched into a frown.

“You _are_ meant to be much wiser than anyone on the earth, are you not?”

“If you know what he’s so upset about, then tell me!” Alex said testily. He _hated_ not knowing.

“Goodness,” Michael groaned. “It is no wonder _I_ had to be the one to confess my feelings first. How can you be so brilliant, and so . . . _inexperienced_ all at once?”

To this, Alex had no response.

As the days passed, however, he had come to know more of the crew. Sanders had grown a fondness for Michael, though Michael seemed more silent around him than anyone else. Noah and Steph were similar to irritating siblings, but they seemed so good-natured that Alex had not the heart to do anything but humor them. Wyatt and Charlie were almost always found together, and for the first few days, Wyatt seemed wary of Alex approaching them. Then Charlie turned to Alex one time, looked him up and down, and offered him her piece of fish. Alex spent a few afternoons staring silently at the ocean with them since then.

It was one particular afternoon, when Alex was left alone with Charlie while Wyatt was assigned to clean the lower decks, that he heard the woman speak for the first time.

“Is the view of the ocean the same there?” she asked, and for a moment, Alex thought he’d imagined the question. Charlie was still staring ahead as if she had not spoken at all.

Regardless, Alex attempted to answer. “Er – the same where?”

“From the palace, of course,” she said dreamily. “I imagine one Mirolet balcony or another overlooks the water.”

Alex stared. He looked around to make certain no one had heard them, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’ve known this entire time?” Charlie nodded. “How?”

“Your charm bracelet,” she said. The silver dragon flying with a flower above its head glimmered in the setting sun. “My ancestors used to travel through Mirolet. Its story was passed down through generations, to me, so that we may never forget the beautiful kingdom of mirrors, trapped in the shadows.”

Alex swallowed. “If you had wanted to tell Captain Forrest, you would have. Why tell me now?”

Charlie heaved a deep sigh, resting her chin on her knees pulled in against her chest. “I suppose I was only curious.”

“About?”

“Why you seem so sad. If you are a prince of Mirolet, you have had the power to leave at any time. Yet you came. I assume to help the captain. He’s a good man. He deserves help. He helped me after my betrothed died.” She turned to look at Alex with her icy-blue eyes. “You don’t need to pity me. It was an arranged marriage.”

“Oh,” Alex said softly, not knowing what else to say. “How did he die?”

“He killed himself,” Charlie said, the setting sun reflecting in her eyes. “He was a very sad man. Poor thing. You are not so sad, but you seem as lost. Why?”

Alex should have denied it, denied he was a prince, that Mirolet was real, but . . . he found he missed his kingdom so dearly, his people, that to hear another soul confess that it _was_ real, that it stands in the light, now and forever, that he could not help the truth as it left his lips.

“I had three elder brothers,” he started, stopped, and started again. “All of whom had been destined to inherit the throne. All of whom –”

“Are now dead,” Charlie finished, and Alex’s intertwined hands clenched.

“Yes. And the throne falls to me.”

Charlie said nothing for a moment, staring at Alex as if he were a map she was to read. Then she leaned forward on her knees. “I wonder,” she said, “could it be that you, in all your years of preparing to save your kingdom, had never actually prepared to rule it?”

Alex frowned. “I have always been a prince. That has never changed –”

“Yes,” Charlie said dreamily. “A sorcerer with the power to fight the darkness, yes, a prince, certainly, with his duty to save his kingdom, but I ask you, archer, if you had ever prepared to be _king_.”

Alex had no answer. He opened his mouth to attempt one, but Michael appeared behind him, his arms around Alex’s waist. “Are you all right?” he said breathlessly into the nape of Alex’s neck.

Alex waited for Charlie to say something to Michael, to acknowledge that she knew he had also been keeping the secret of Mirolet. However, she had gone back to staring at the ocean.

Alex was aware of Michael asking him something again, and he nodded thoughtlessly.

“She _knows_?” Michael said, his eyes wide.

“She saw my bracelet,” Alex said, fingering the small silver charm. “She knew what the symbol meant.” He shook his head. “She knows who I am.”

They were standing against the ship’s edge, apart from the others, and Michael moved closer to Alex, covering his hand with his own. “That’s . . . good . . . is it not? If she will not tell anyone –”

“She will not,” Alex said. “She . . . wants to see Mirolet for herself.”

“Then why do you seem so conflicted?” Michael asked softly, and Alex clenched his jaw. “Alex. You told me that you were suffering from many fears. Is that where your conflict lies?”

Alex swallowed. _Tell him_ , his mind pushed. _Tell him that you fear to be king. Tell him the thought haunts you. Tell him how unhappy you have been._

“Michael,” he started, “I –”

“Land ho!”

Alex’s words were drowned by the applause of the crew, by Noah yelling that he spotted the island, by Forrest striding across deck, his grin wide, proudly shouting, “There she is, pirates! Feast your eyes on her beauty!”

They moved to the front of the ship, watching as a small, white patch of earth rose in the horizon. As they neared, Alex saw that the trees were taller than any he had ever seen, there were wild gardens with flowers he had never laid eyes on before, fruits and vegetables so large and vibrant, they were visible even from where they sailed.

“Endow Island,” Forrest breathed by his shoulder, and Alex turned and caught his eyes. The blue flames danced excitedly, and Forrest’s grin widened slightly, his cheeks a deep scarlet, before he seemed to see something in Alex’s gaze.

The captain’s expression cooled to smug mischief, and before Alex could ask what had changed, Forrest turned to the others and said, “Set sail, and prepare to land! We will not be leaving without that Goblet, and _mountains_ of treasure for our troubles!”

The crew all screamed in unison, their fists raised gleefully in the air. Alex looked to Michael to find the Viking had been watching him, and, not wanting to lose Forrest while he finally had him, Alex kissed Michael’s lips and turned to follow the pirate captain into his quarters.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Alex asked as soon as he closed the door behind him.

“You should not have followed me, archer,” Forrest said, his back still turned to Alex. “Your Viking will not like that very much.”

Alex ignored him, placing his palms flat against Forrest’s table as he sat down in his large armchair. “Are you so afraid of someone caring for you that you will distance yourself from the only one of your kind aboard the ship?”

Forrest leaned back, fingers intertwined over his stomach. “So you do care for me, then?”

“I do,” Alex said, and Forrest, seemingly startled by the confession, faltered. He cleared his throat and straightened in his seat.

“I am not avoiding you, Alex,” Forrest said. “I am a captain with a crew and a voyage, I have much to do –”

“The man I love is a _Viking_ ,” Alex said. “I assure you, he’s far busier with everything he has to do than you are, and he still has the time to speak to me. Or will you tell me that a man in love will not allow the distance?”

“I assure you, one must be as equally in love to _keep_ a distance,” Forrest said, and his expression fell as he realized what he had said.

Alex stared, and slowly sat down opposite him. “I did not know.”

“Is that your response?” Forrest asked cautiously. When Alex could think of nothing else to say, the pirate scoffed. “Do not concern yourself, archer. A pirate’s love is not so strong or profound as you may believe. It is your beauty I admire, nothing more.”

Alex pursed his lips. He wished Forrest would not do that; not deny his feelings or belittle his own ability to love. But he could not say these words aloud, for he feared he would only cause the pirate pain where it was not welcome. Now, Alex understood why Michael had been so hesitant to tell him why Forrest had been avoiding him.

“Smile, archer,” Forrest teased. “We approach Endow Island. The Goblet will change our lives. It can turn those of ordinary blood to sorcerers, we will never be alone again.”

“Michael’s blood is far from ordinary,” Alex said, and to ease his words, added, “as is Rosa’s, and Charlie’s, and Wyatt, and Sanders’s –”

Forrest hummed, breaking into a laugh. “Are you attempting to teach me something?”

Alex tilted his head. Now it was for _him_ to study Forrest’s face. He wondered if the pirate intended to allow Alex to see so much. “I am simply wondering,” Alex said, “whether a man with a crew, a family, so willing to die for him, is alone at all.”

Forrest’s smile dimmed and he looked down at his own interlocked fingers, studying the backs of his hands. “You told me of a hunter you had saved many years ago.”

“I did,” Alex nodded, his heart warming at the mere thought of Kyle. He was really beginning to _feel_ the distance between him and his brother. “I had given up hope until I had met him.”

“Rosa keeps my hope alive,” Forrest said. “And I love her as dearly as any sister. But you and I both know it is not the same.”

Alex considered this. It was true, Kyle had given him hope, but it was the thought of saving Mirolet, of bringing back his kingdom, of the prospect of a bright future for magic that kept him fighting. He nodded. “It’s not,” he agreed.

The flames in Forrest’s eyes brightened slightly, his long blue earring glimmering in the sunlight pouring in through the high portholes. “So you understand.”

“I do,” Alex swallowed. “Forrest, there is something I have to tell you.”

“Do not speak of it,” Forrest shook his head, standing. “I already know.”

Alex blinked. “You – you do?”

“Of course, I do,” he grinned at Alex, but there was no taunt in the gesture at all. Only fondness, only admiration, only _love_. “And you are kind for your concern, but do not trouble yourself. I know very well that the Goblet may not be real.”

Alex stood. “Er . . .”

“You do not want my hopes to shatter, and it is admirable of you,” he sighed. “But it matters not. Whether or not the Goblet is real, I still have you. We will never be alone again, for we are now together.”

“Forrest – please, wait –”

“The time for waiting is over, Alex,” Forrest grinned widely, taking his hand in his and shaking it slightly. “We have a quest to finish. We will speak after, whatever happens.”

“But –” he tried, but Forrest had already released him and made his way outside. Alex swallowed heavily as Michael peered his head in, an eyebrow raised.

He might have seemed calm if not for the way a muscle in his temple quivered. “Dare I ask?” His anger seemed to last only the time it took to catch Alex’s eyes. His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Michael,” Alex said, “I have to tell him today. Whatever happens, he will come to Mirolet, and he will know he is not alone. I cannot fail.”

The island was even more beautiful as they neared it. It burst to life with color, vibrant roses and sunflowers, corn, grapes, and a variety of berries. The water was a clear blue through which Alex caught the sight of large fish swimming below them, the trees were tall and bore even larger birds in their branches.

As they anchored the ship and came to stand on the earth, Alex realized there was _gold_ growing amidst the flowers, and rubies and gems amongst the fruits and vegetables.

“The earth itself _does_ breed riches,” Alex muttered, and Forrest nodded.

“All very pretty trinkets, but not the greatest treasure here,” Forrest said. “Come, the legend says that the Goblet is at the heart of the island. The rest of you,” he said louder, “take what you can back to the ship. Whatever happens here today, we will certainly not be leaving empty-handed!”

The others cheered and began to gather their fish nets and wool bags, taking what they could while Forrest began leading the way through the grounds. Alex and Michael followed, and soon, they found themselves walking through a forest of trees and bushes of berries.

“Did you know?” Forrest suddenly said as they trudged up the path. “They say this island itself was made by magic. Only a sorcerer of Mirolet may be allowed inside. ‘Course, that cannot be true if we are here, but I do believe the island is enchanted.”

Alex shared a look with Michael. The leaves and thorns had not touched them once. Michael had had his sword in hand, prepared to strike down any wild animals or branches in their way, but the few stags and foxes they had seen lurking in the corners did not want to seem to bother them, and the thick roots of trees sunk into the ground as the three neared. It was as if nature itself moved aside for Alex and closed again behind him.

“There!” Forrest called at once, and they came upon what looked like the entrance to a crypt. It was closed off by a door of stone, and Forrest hurried towards it. “This is it!” he said excitedly. “The entrance!” He set a hand on the door, his fingers glowing with deep-blue, but try as he might, no matter how much he strained, he could not force it open.

“Ah!” Forrest fell back, leaning forward on his knees, panting heavily. “It’s – it’s not working! Why is it not working?!”

Alex narrowed his eyes, following the entrance’s corners.

“I wonder,” Michael said, “if the island allows for the people of Mirolet to pass –”

“—then perhaps the crypt does as well,” Alex agreed. Without a word, he reached back into his quiver, and pricked his finger on the tip of one of his arrows.

Michael winced and looked away as blood trickled down Alex’s hand. “Surely, _blood_ doesn’t make you squeamish?” he muttered, his lips quirked up at the corner.

“ _Yours_ does,” he bit back, and Alex resisted the urge to laugh.

It quickly died away, and he hid his hand behind his back. He put his other hand on Forrest’s shoulder. “Let’s try again,” he said gently, “together.”

Forrest looked up, and seemed to regain his strength the longer he looked at Alex. He grinned and nodded. They each took a deep breath, and Alex pressed the hand with his blood on the door. He and Forrest had barely touched it when the earth shook, and the door moved aside for them. The stone staircase descended into darkness. It looked as if it had not been touched in centuries.

Forrest exhaled a short puff of breath. “Well. After me.”

Briefly grasping Alex’s shoulder in gratitude, Forrest led the way down. Alex reached for Michael’s hand for comfort, his heart racing, and he felt whatever tension in Michael’s body disappear as well.

Michael pressed a kiss to the back of Alex’s head, murmuring encouragements into his hair. Alex released a trembling breath and followed Forrest, his hand on Michael’s tight.

Forrest held up his hand as they walked, emitting a blue light. Alex created his own silver and white light, keeping Michael close. Soon, the need for light was unnecessary as a bright purple and gold glow washed the walls.

Alex narrowed his eyes at the familiar color. “Impossible,” he breathed, but then they walked into a large domed chamber filled with a field of purple flowers with gold pollen, lighting the walls and turning the darkness to daylight.

“What –” Forrest’s brows were furrowed. “What is this flower, I’ve never seen the likes of it!”

It was Michael who spoke, “The Flowers of Frost. The flowers of Mirolet, I should say. They create barriers to protect the kingdom.”

Forrest frowned. “How did you know that?”

Alex shook his head. “I can’t believe,” he whispered, kneeling beside one of the flowers and reaching out to touch its petals. “I can’t believe there are so many.”

“I thought there were only the few,” Michael said.

“So did I,” Alex said. “The founders of Mirolet must have planted them here. This place is the origin of Mirolet! Forrest, isn’t this . . . what’s wrong?”

Alex faltered as Forrest’s frown deepened. He stood slowly, releasing the petals. “Are you all right?”

“Er –” Forrest started, and smiled. It did not reach his eyes. “Y-yes, I – I simply, I’ve never seen these flowers before. And I can’t spot the Goblet.”

Alex looked around. There was nothing here but the field. “I’m . . . sorry, Forrest, I don’t think the Goblet is here.”

Forrest nodded slowly, avoiding Alex and Michael’s gaze. The blue light on his hands never dimmed. “If it’s not here . . . then it’s not anywhere. I was a fool for believing it exists.”

“Forrest,” Alex said softly. “You were not a fool.”

“No?” Forrest chuckled bitterly, leaning down to touch the flowers. The blue glow on his hands grew brighter.

“I have made voyages for much less than a belief,” Michael said begrudgingly. “You followed your hopes.”

“Yes,” he said darkly. “And look where they’ve led me.”

“ _No_ , Forrest!” Alex held Forrest’s face in his hands. “Don’t you see? Only heroes keep fighting when hope is all there is left. And that’s all you had. _Hope_.”

Forrest reached up to hold Alex’s wrists tightly, the light of his magic almost blinding now. “Well,” he said quietly. “Hope did not protect me from you, did it?”

Alex frowned, but before he could ask what Forrest could have possibly meant, he heard Michael scream his name, and the both of them were blasted backwards against the stone wall.

Alex could not move, a pressing weight on his arms and legs kept him pinned to the wall beside Michael whose sword lay at his feet, out of reach.

“What –” Alex choked, the blue light that engulfed them had the strength of chains. “What are you doing?”

“I cannot believe,” Forrest huffed, his smile intact, but his eyes wild and furious, “that I had a _prince of Mirolet_ in my company all this time, and did not know it. _Really_ , Your Majesty, your decorum is appalling.”

And he held in his hand a bracelet with a silver charm of a dragon flying beneath a flower. _Alex’s_ charm.

“Did you really think,” he seethed, “that for all my interests in the lost kingdom, that I would not know the _royal crest_ when I saw it?”

“Forrest,” Alex tried, the weight on his limbs was growing heavier. “Please, _listen_ –”

“Every question I’ve had concerning you makes sense now,” Forrest said, shaking his head. “The glimmer of your arrows, why your magic is white and silver, why you seemed more surprised to hear of the Goblet than of Mirolet itself! Did you think it _funny_? To allow me hope when you _knew_ the Goblet did not exist?!”

“We did not know,” Alex said. “The Goblet of Mirolet was one of many, _many_ myths told to us as children, there has never been evidence that it does not exist –”

“YOU LIED TO ME!” Forrest shouted. “No _wonder_ you had regarded me with such _pity_ ; Captain Forrest, the _foolish_ pirate who did not know of Mirolet!”

“I did not lie to you!” Alex tried. It was getting harder to breathe. “Mirolet _had_ been lost for centuries, we saved it from dying in the shadows not too long ago – Forrest, _please_ –”

“A prince,” Forrest breathed, looking away, seemingly caught in his own thoughts. “A _prince_. Well, some _ruler_ you turned out to be. You let me go on and on about being alone, the only one of my kind. I had lived in such solitude my entire life, did you think _more_ time was what I needed?! And all for what, to get here? Your precious _Flowers of Frost_?!”

“We did not know these would be here,” Michael said. “Alex had always intended to tell you of Mirolet, now would you _let us go_ so that we may explain?!”

Forrest scoffed. “I will not hear any more of your lies. I remember very well where you ship was anchored, and if you had not been travelling more than a day,” he nodded, seemingly to himself. “I can find the kingdom myself, without having to worry about you two betraying me again.”

Something burned to life in Alex’s chest at the thought of his kingdom, his people. Michael must have felt the same at the thought of his village, for Alex felt the bonds on them loosen enough that it was easier to breathe.

“The kingdom is protected,” Alex panted. If only Forrest had not caught them by surprise. “You will not find it if you go alone.”

Forrest narrowed his eyes. “You lie. It is not protected against sorcerers looking for it.” Alex said nothing, and Forrest’s smile fell to something sadder, but genuine. “And here I thought that . . . if you would not be my love, then you would be my friend.” The blue flames in his eyes turned almost black in his anger. “I was wrong.”

He turned to leave, ignoring Alex’s calls to him. They heard the stone door close behind Forrest, and they were submerged in silence, nothing but the sound of their breathing heard between them. The purple and golden glow of the flowers reflected in Michael’s eyes.

“Michael, I –”

“If you apologize,” Michael sighed, “so help me _Thor_ –”

“This _is_ my fault,” Alex said desperately. “I know you want to pretend that I am without fault and can do no wrong, but that is not the _truth_! I am a very foolish man who made a very foolish mistake.”

“ _Alex_ –”

“I should have told Forrest the truth from the beginning.”

“We could not trust his intentions,” Michael said. “And just so you’re aware, I certainly do not think of you as someone without faults. You have _plenty_ , but you do not allow them to _become_ you!”

Alex said nothing, staring ahead.

“I do not understand,” Michael breathed. “Why do you speak like this, as if . . . as if you have given up? Alex, _answer me_ ,” he said, but Alex could not. Michael growled in frustration. “If anyone can save Mirolet from pirates, it’s _you_! You’re a _prince_ –”

“Yes, a prince,” Alex snapped. “A prince who has spent his entire life fighting to save his kingdom only to stand lost amongst its people. A prince who chose to escape on a voyage because he felt suffocated in his own palace. A prince who fears becoming king!”

Neither said another word for a long moment, Alex’s eyes burning savagely. He had disappointed Michael, he knew he had. He waited for the sigh, the exasperated sound of his name, the scoff.

Then Michael laughed, relief coloring his voice. “Oh my love, my beauty, is that all?”

Alex looked up, his eyes filled with tears, his brows furrowed. “What?”

“I knew something was bothering you,” Michael said, “but I had feared it was much worse.”

“How can you say that? I’m afraid of being king!”

“Of course, you are!” Michael said as if it had always been a certainty. “You spent _centuries_ on your own, and then your responsibility extended to _one_ very irritating man, and now you’ve found yourself ruling an entire kingdom that you had never meant to rule at all.”

Alex shook his head. “Everyone is relying on me to keep balance, Michael, and yet I feel myself falling apart at the seams every day beneath their gazes. Kyle should be king –”

“ _Kyle_ is a brilliant prince,” Michael said firmly. “If you ever tell him I said that, I will deny it. But he is. He cares for the people, they trust him . . . but he is not you. He is their prince. _You_ are their king. He would not accept the throne, not while you are still alive, and I intend to keep you alive for as long as possible.”

“But,” Alex cried, frustration building in his chest, “Michael, I cannot do it! It is such a weight to bear –”

“A weight you have born longer than any man capable of bearing,” Michael said resolutely. “Alex, don’t you see? You were never a mere prince of Mirolet. You were _always_ a king. But now the title has changed and it frightens you, and I _understand_.”

“No, you do not,” Alex said miserably.

“ _Yes_ , I do,” Michael said fondly. “Do you not think _I_ was frightened when I left behind the life I’d always lived? When I fell in love with a _sorcerer_ , of all creatures? But I had _you_ by my side, and it’s always so easy to draw strength from you. You will have me, and Kyle, and Michelle, and Isobel, and Maria, and Elias – _all_ of us. You’re not searching for a kingdom lost in the shadows anymore, Alex. Mirolet has stepped out of the darkness at last. Now you must as well. You’re not alone anymore either.”

Alex looked up from the flowers to watch Michael’s face. The purple and gold, the magic of his kingdom’s protectors – none of it could compare to his Viking’s beauty.

“I love you,” Alex said, and Michael smiled. Always kind, always loving, always smug – always _Alex’s_.

“And I love you,” Michael said, amused.

Alex took a deep breath. “All right, try to reach my hand.”

“You want to hold hands _now_?” he asked with a raised brow, though he reached in the small distance between their fingers, his hand brushing Alex’s. “Very romantic, though I fear it may not be the time, darling.”

“Hilarious,” Alex panted, stretching as far as he could. “If my powers work best when we touch, then –”

Michael’s fingers closed around the tips of his own, warm and strong, but that was all Alex needed. He summoned his abilities to the surface, felt his breath cool, his body gain strength. With a shout, his entire being emitted a white and silver light, and Forrest’s blue light was dispersed. Both he and Michael fell to the ground, a puff of gold pollen rising in the air and coating them.

Alex waved it out of his eyes, gripping Michael’s hand tighter. “Hurry! We have to go!”

They ran out, Michael’s hand still in his. They barely reached the top of the stairs when the door was blasted apart. The forest, as it had before, moved aside for him. Alex noticed some hedges and branches were cut apart, and he realized Forrest must have struggled to go back the way he had come without someone from Mirolet with him.

When he mentioned this, Michael panted, “Good! Hopefully, it’s kept them from leaving!”

But Alex and Michael had no such fortune. When they arrived to the shore, they spotted the pirate ship in the distance, fish nets of writhing fish and bags of gold left abandoned, undoubtedly as Forrest must have been quick to gather his crew and sail off.

“No,” Alex breathed, looking around at the chaos left behind, imagining the pirates descending on Mirolet, on the Vikings’ village, in a rage. “No, no, _no_! Forrest will not be thinking clearly, he _will_ cause harm if he leaves like this!”

“We have to follow,” Michael said.

“How? We need our . . . our ship,” he finished on a whisper, his eyes widening. “Perhaps – perhaps I can summon it here!”

Michael’s eyes widened. “ _Come again_?”

“We hardly have a choice, do we?”

“ _Alex_ , that kind of magic could kill you!”

“Not if you kiss me,” Alex said excitedly. “My magic was strong enough when the curse had barely lifted, but if we come together _now_ , perhaps I will have enough strength to perform the spell!”

It was mad, completely, _utterly_ mad, but Michael was already nodding. “And then we can catch the pirates’ ship before they get too far.”

“And I can reason with Forrest,” Alex agreed.

“Er – I was actually suggesting we merely kill everyone on board – but no, of course, you still hope to save them.” Michael groaned at the sky. “Your damn _morals_!”

“Stop talking,” Alex said, wrapping his arms urgently around Michael’s shoulders, “and _kiss me_.”

Michael did not need to be told twice. He gathered Alex in his arms and nearly lifted him off the ground as he crashed their lips together. The kiss was wet and openmouthed, Michael’s hands running up and down Alex’s waist, his back, over his arse. Their tongues battled, and they moaned against one another’s lips.

When they pulled back, panting with beads of sweat falling down their foreheads and the napes of their necks, Alex’s heart was racing, and he could feel his powers surging throughout his entire body. He had no clue how relieved he would be to know that Michael still loved him despite his anxieties of becoming king, of his acceptance of Alex and his fears. He had no clue just how _grateful_ he would be to have Michael by his side, through it all. His sanity, his freedom, his magic, his greatest _love_.

Alex knelt on the earth, his fingers digging into the sand. He imagined their ship, floating uselessly on the waves, days’ worth a journey from here. Now Michael and Alex needed it, and Alex would _not_ let his love down.

He tightened every muscle in his body, felt the blood seep from his nose, heard himself scream, heard Michael start to call for him, asking him to “Stop! Stop it, we’ll find another way!”

But there _was_ no other way. They had to reach Forrest in time, they had to save Mirolet and the village. Alex could not, and _would not_ , fail.

The sound of the waves grew louder, the blood rushing in his ears. He saw the ocean waves rise, hiding the sun, before he was forced to close his eyes. If this island was meant to help those of Mirolet, then it would help Alex now. He commanded so.

Suddenly, as slowly as it had begun, the waves settled, the pounding in his ears ceased, and as Alex opened his now heavily-lidded eyes, he heard Michael gasp beside him. There it was, standing before them, moving gently with the clear waves, was their ship.

“Have I ever told you how bloody _brilliant_ you are?” Michael said fiercely into Alex’s hair, his arms around Alex’s body, keeping him up.

“Not today,” Alex breathed.

Michael helped him to his feet, and onto the ship. “We’ll never reach them in time.”

“We will,” Alex said, putting one hand on the edge of the small ship. It had been theirs not for long, but it was a piece of the Vikings’ village, a piece that Alex had come to associate with Michael. A piece of home. “Hold onto me.”

“Forever,” Michael said, one hand covering Alex’s on the ship, the other hugging waist from behind. Alex interlocked their fingers over his stomach, and focused on the waves.

_Help us_ , he silently urged. _Please, help us._

Alex clutched Michael tighter, the Viking’s hold on him strong. Before they realized what was happening, the spell was working, and they were dashing across the ocean surface. Soon the waters turned a deeper blue, the magic of Endow Island lost in the spray of the sea mist.

“Can you see them?” Alex asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Yes!” Michael yelled over the sound of the rushing waves. “I can! We’re nearly there!”

Alex suddenly felt a push against his powers, as if the water was fighting between keeping them moving, and keeping them still.

“Damn you, Forrest,” Alex growled. “Stop fighting me!”

“I’m here with you,” Michael mumbled against his neck, his lips warm and wet, and Alex exhaled quickly. His powers strengthened enough to push against Forrest’s barriers.

Suddenly, the pirates’ ship came into view, and faster still, Alex and Michael crashed into it and nearly fell over. They found their bearings very quickly, and without needing to extend the plank, they shared one look, took off at a run, and leapt from the front of their ship to the back of the other where the pirates were waiting.

Their swords were raised, but unlike the first time Alex and Michael had met them, none of them were smiling or laughing. They looked, rather, like they dreaded having to hold a weapon against them. Forrest stood behind them, leaning against the edge, his arms crossed.

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be,” Rosa warned. “Leave the ship.”

Alex shook his head. “I cannot let you go looking for Mirolet, not like this.”

“So it’s true?” Noah asked. “You’re from the lost kingdom? Mirolet’s _real_?”

“And you are the prince,” Steph scoffed, disbelief coloring her tone. “All this time, we thought you were our friend –”

“I _am_ ,” Alex insisted. “I _want_ to take you to Mirolet, I simply had to be certain of your intentions!”

“And finding the Flowers of Frost meant nothing, I suppose?” Forrest said skeptically.

“We have not taken a single petal,” Alex said. “Forrest –” he tried to step forward, but the pirates advanced with their weapons. Alex’s hands still glimmered with a white and silver glow, and Michael’s sword was drawn. Alex knew that Michael could take on these pirates himself, but there was still Forrest’s powers to worry about.

“Forrest, I _am_ your friend,” he tried. “You have to believe me.”

“I believe nothing you say,” Forrest said through grit teeth, and Alex may have believed him if the pirate had not held his gaze a moment too long.

“You’re lying,” Alex shook his head. “I may not have made a fair decision in hiding the truth from you, but it was the right one.” Forrest scoffed, and Alex stepped closer. “I _feared_ for my kingdom’s safety, and you were too powerful a pirate to be trusted. Had it been my life at stake, and no one else’s, I might have trusted you the moment I had found out what you were. But I had my people to fear for. So is the duty of a leader and a friend.”

He looked to Rosa. “You did not trust us to be with Forrest when we first met.”

“Because I was concerned for him!” Rosa defended desperately. “I _wanted_ you to be good, for it was what _he_ wanted, but I could not risk your betrayal! And _look_! I was right! You did betray us!”

“We needed _time_ ,” Michael said. “To know you. To believe you could be trusted with our homes. We have faced far worse than you could ever imagine, we have nearly died at the hands of those who wanted to rule Mirolet.”

“Enough of this,” Forrest demanded. “I don’t want to hear anything else they have to say!”

“Do you know _why_ Mirolet was lost? Where it has been all this time? Why no one has heard of it in centuries?” Alex insisted. Forrest momentarily stilled, and Alex, seizing his chance, continued, “I was the _only_ sorcerer amongst my brothers, the son of a man who loathed what I was. I was only a boy when he’d discovered I could do magic, but he imprisoned me. He wanted the magic of every sorcerer in Mirolet so that he could grow stronger, so that he could _destroy_ us, once and for all, to rule Mirolet as _he_ saw fit. Mirolet had _never_ been a kingdom where magic was welcomed.

“I had performed the spell to make myself immortal, to _prevent_ my father from casting it on himself, but it was too late. My father, the king, had become a monster of darkness, and he stole Mirolet away, frozen in the shadows for eternity. For centuries, I searched for a way to save my people, and I was . . . I was not a good man. I was without courage, without kindness, without hope. . . .” He looked to Forrest and held his gaze. “I was completely and utterly alone.”

Alex huffed. “Not a _year_ ago was the kingdom finally saved, in gratitude to Michael and others who I at first did not trust with the secrets of Mirolet, and who have been my family since. I often wake, forgetting that I am no longer cursed, that my father is no longer hunting me, that I am _safe_. I am afraid every moment of every day, and when it came to Mirolet’s safety in meeting you, I was afraid of you as well. I do not think I made a mistake in being wary, but I _am_ sorry for hurting you. Please, I ask you to forgive me.”

Forrest shook his head, though his blue flames flickered uncertainly. “How are we to trust a word you say?”

Alex considered this, then took a deep breath, and let his magic fade away. He slowly felt the quiver of arrows disappear from his back. Beside him, Michael sheathed his sword, murmuring something about foolish archers and their foolish trusting ways. _Zeus Almighty_ , he loved that man.

The two stood there, defenseless, in a circle of pirates and a sorcerer. Alex knew he should have feared them, but these were the people he had come to dine with, to laugh with, to comfort. He could not imagine ever hurting them as he could not imagine them hurting him.

Surprisingly, it was Charlie who first sheathed her own sword, tugged Wyatt’s hand, and came to stand dreamily at Alex’s side, Wyatt following quietly.

“Charlie?” Rosa asked. “What are you doing?”

Alex did not think they expected her to answer, but she opened her mouth regardless, and said, “I have known that he was Mirolet royalty for a while. If he is to be punished, then I should be punished as well.”

“Yes,” Wyatt said. “And me. She told me,” he said in response to Alex’s raised brow. “Of course, she told me.”

“Ah, blasted,” Sanders groaned, and sheathed his own sword. “I can’t be mad at ‘im!” he said, and came to stand by Michael. “I actually like the bloody Viking. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Rosa, of course I knew! I may be old, but I’m not _stupid_! Look at ‘im! ‘Ave you ever seen a more Viking-ish Viking? Bloody obvious, isn’t it?!”

Noah and Steph sheathed their own swords with a wince.

“Er – sorry, Captain, but,” Noah tried, and Steph finished, “it’s only that they’re _really_ very pretty, aren’t they?”

Rosa, however, did not yield. She fixed her sword on Alex, and said, “Captain, what would you like me to do?”

Forrest said nothing for a moment, staring at Alex. “Why,” he started, his voice softer, the flames in his eyes turned to a sky-blue, “should I believe that, after everything, you still want to help me?”

Alex took a deep breath. “Because I am not a mere prince of Mirolet. I am the king. It is my duty to take care of my people.” He took a step towards Forrest, extending a hand. “And you _are_ my people.”

Forrest hesitated, then put a hand on Rosa’s shoulder. Slowly, her eyes on his face, she lowered her weapon. Forrest came close enough that he could touch Alex if he wanted to, and looked down at his hand, open and inviting.

He pulled something out of his pocket and held it. Alex realized it was his charm bracelet. “I have been searching for a very long time, Alex. And I am very tired.”

Alex nodded once, his jaw clenched. “Never again,” he promised, and Forrest searched his face, looking for the lie. He would not find one.

Slowly, Forrest put his hand in Alex’s, his rings cold against Alex’s skin, and for once, Alex welcomed the chill in his bones, his royal, silver charm hanging between them.

*

The journey to Mirolet had been a much faster one with both Alex and Forrest rushing the waves. They had not spoken much, but every now and then, he would step into Forrest’s quarters, take the armchair across the table from him, and the two would sit in silence. Sometimes, Forrest asked questions about Mirolet, about Alex’s magic, his journey throughout the centuries. Alex always answered with a smile, or a subdued voice, or – as it so happened with certain memories – confessed he could not answer at all.

He visited Kyle and Michelle in his dreams, told them of the pirates they were bringing, of the sorcerer, and his and Michael’s adventures with Captain Forrest. When he attempted to tell Kyle that he would be accepting the crown, Kyle merely smiled as he always did when Alex was exasperating.

“You are Mirolet’s king, brother,” Kyle repeated, as he had once told him in a dream that felt too distant now. “I would not have it any other way.”

Alex had embraced him, burying his face in the crook of his neck, and yearning for the moment he would touch him in the waking world.

It felt like days before Alex finally spotted Mirolet’s towers in the distance. “Do you see it?” he asked Forrest, and Forrest shook his head, his brows furrowed.

“That’s because the barriers are up,” Alex said, explaining the story of the Vikings’ village and the barrier that kept them and the kingdom separated from one another. He covered Forrest’s hand on the edge with his own, and saw the exact moment Forrest’s lips parted, gasping ever so quietly. His eyes widened slightly, and the deep-blue flames in his eyes began to look like waves themselves as Forrest’s eyes filled with tears.

The palace reflected the very sky and clouds, the vibrant red, gold, and brown of the forest and the ocean and the leaves. “It is a palace of mirrors,” Forrest whispered, and Alex smiled as the pirate’s hand on his tightened.

“Can you feel the magic?” he asked.

Forrest nodded, a tear escaping. “What is this feeling? It . . . it is so warm, and strong, and . . . I cannot place it.”

“All right?” Alex suddenly heard Michael mutter against his ear, the Viking’s arms coming around his waist, his chin settling on Alex’s shoulder as he stared ahead at the two worlds, so different and yet standing together in harmony.

“It’s called home,” Alex said, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of Michael’s heartbeat against his back, Michael’s warm hands on his body, Michael’s soft breathing against his shoulder. “Welcome home.”

Kyle and Michelle were waiting for them on the outskirts of the forest when they docked, gathered behind them were several people of Mirolet, sorcerers and humans alike, all come to wish the newcomers in. With Alex’s hand in Michael’s, and the pirates at their side, they descended together to the shore.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://pastelwitchling.tumblr.com/)


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